Crossing the Border
by Zaxarus
Summary: While battling Death Eaters at the Ministry of Magic, something happens that will change the course of the war - hopefully for the better. A foreigner steps through the veil and starts to shake up the magical society. Cullen/Luna and HP/HG as main characters, pairings decided now. Starts at the end of fifth year resp. during DA-Origins/Broken Circle.
1. Chapter 1 Crossing the Border

_**A/N**_

_This is a __**Dragon Age / Harry Potter crossover**__. While most crossovers concentrate on some HP character entering another world, this story will show what happens when a DA character (in this case a Templar) happens to enter the world of HP._

_The main character will be the __**Templar Cullen**__. If you played Dragon Age, you will certainly remember him. I'll use the younger version of DA Origins (he'll be around 20 in my story). _

_The story plays right after the Circle Tower part of Dragon Age Origins and at the battle at the MOM._

_I don't own anything._

_**A little warning**__: I don't expect this to become a longer story with a real end. It's more an experiment because I like the idea of DA/HP crossovers, the idea of a magic-fighter among pureblood wizards amuses me and simply love the character of Cullen. No pairings planned so far, open for suggestions. How long this story gets, seriously depends on your reactions and interest._

_See at the end of the chapter for a short explanation about mages/Templars in DA._

_**Un-beta-ed so far.**_

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**Crossing the Border**

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_**Circle Tower – Cullen's POV**_

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"Kill him. Rescue Irving, but kill Uldred," Cullen pleaded urgently, his body trembling from exhaustion and dehydration despite all attempts to only show strength.

Grey Warden Amell, former mage of the circle, nodded curtly. There was no way to free the young Templar at this moment and both men knew it. Xander Amell belonged to the very short list of mages Cullen trusted. He had to trust him once again now, to rescue those Mages held captive by Uldred and his minions while dishing out justice for them following his command. Xander was a mage believing in the Maker and, while he wished for more freedom for the mages and especially the possibility to have a family, he didn't doubt the necessity of the tower nor did he hate blood magic and demons any less than the next Templar. He was one of the few reasons Cullen hadn't given in to his hate towards magic, even now. He and Wynne, Xander's mentor, who shared those opinions and instructed them to the young man.

Cullen Stanton Rutherford from Honnleath had been barely thirteen when his parents allowed him to become a Templar apprenticeship serving Andraste and the Maker, giving in to the young man's puppy-like admiration after years of harassing his parents to let him go for such an adventure. Years of exhaustion, pain and humiliation followed; endless hours of training, serving and standing watch; nights of fighting sleepiness while watching a candle burn down and praying. He had been so proud to get his first sword and breastplate – far too heavy and cumbersome in the beginning. Training and exercises had taken care of that and now he wore them – the replacements he got on his ordination two years ago – with ease. He had learned to wear the heaviest armour while fighting, running and jumping. He grasped how to make devastating attacks with a two-handed sword and to protect the weaker inhabitants of the tower with his hardened shield. Mages feared his draining attacks and knew not to waste their energy in fruitless attempts to influence his mind.

Since entering the last part of his education he had been the protégé of Knight-Commander Gregoire, the leader of the Templar forces at the Circle Tower. It certainly never meant any decline in standards expected of him regarding his behaviour and performance. In contrary it led to additional training hours when his peers were allowed to rest. He was stronger now, faster and able to use Templar abilities like others with a decade more of experience under their belt. Gregoire already announced that he would soon be promoted to Templar-Sergeant – should he survive the current ordeal.

An hour ago he hadn't expected to see the next day. Uldred, one of the senior mages of the tower, had allowed his mask to slip, showing his true face, the face of a blood mage and demon conjuror. He had gathered his forces and seized the tower, forcing most of the Templars to flee, and captured or killed the rest along with the mages that didn't share his insane opinions about mages dominating the "lesser mortals".

If that wasn't bad enough, he had opened a portal to the Fade and summoned a number of demons to aid him in his struggle. Magic was dripping into reality all over the tower and slowly everything started to change. Templar by Templar Cullen's comrades had given in to pain, mind-influencing spells and the magic of a Succubus in Uldred's service. Only he had been able to withstand the attacks so far. Cullen wasn't certain how long he would have been able to continue, imprisoned in this bubble of pure magic, with demons haunting him in the guise of family members and the one girl he once loved.

At the eleventh hour, Xander Amell and his friends made an appearance, staves and swords blazing, righteous fury in their eyes. _She_ hadn't been with him, not that he expected it from her. It seemed he would see the next day after all. Cullen closed his eyes and started to pray. There was nothing else he could do for now. Hopefully he would have an opportunity to speak with him after this. He would like to hear about Xander's last weeks. How he had fared at the battle of Ostagar. And what happened to _her_.

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Something was happening. Cullen could feel it. For a while, there had been fighting. Screams of pain, of men dying, had filled the air as did the sounds of swords clanging and spells burning flesh, human and other alike. The last scream had been completely inhuman. It had been accompanied by a massive wave of magic, strong enough to rattle his prison. For a moment he had hoped that Uldred's death – he was certain that it had been his death scream – would free him at last. That it would end his time of torture – physical, emotional and mental. However, it didn't happen.

Instead something frightening occured all around him. The magic that had appeared earlier, dripping from the Fade into his world, started to return to the place where it belonged, where it had been drawn by Uldred's mad but genius mind. The balance shifted again and like a pendulum it wanted to compensate the spike of magic with a time of an unnatural low. Like a wave at a beach, it had wet the sand and was now pulling back into the sea to prepare a new watery attack. However, in this massive wave of magic was a foreign object not meant to be there – Cullen.

He actually screamed, screamed for the first time since all of this started. He had endured pain and threats of death, survived through starvation and exhaustion, withstood all attempts to convince or seduce him. He endured it all, but the prospect of being drawn into the Fade without any hope of return was scaring even him. Cullen tried to break the bubble, used all his might to counter it, but in vain. The sheer amount of magic around him was far too much. Not even the whole cadre of Circle Tower Templars could have neutralized it. He was nothing more than a toy within this maelstrom of magic.

A rift opened and the bubble with its unwilling "guest" passed it. Looking behind, Cullen still saw the rift, the light that promised hope. It was the last glint of his old life, a life he could never reach again. For a second he even believed he saw Xander Amell's face in that rift. Perhaps it was only his imagination. Farther and farther away from the rift, he was pulled by the masses of magic. After a last shimmer, the rift was no more, either closed at last or simply too far away for him to see.

Cullen sank to his knees. He was alone. For the first time in his life he felt something completely knew in his heart: doubt and despair.

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_How long have I been here?_

Cullen had no answer to that question. It felt like weeks, perhaps even months. He didn't need nutrition. He didn't feel the urge to sleep. Somehow it wasn't as boring as he expected it to be. Too much was visible around him distracting his senses. Some things he understood, other not so much. He had read some books about the Fade and had learnt that it was a whole landscape on its own. Like a blanket it was covering the real world. The dreams of men influenced it as did the will of demons. More than once one of them had approached him, but so far the mix of Uldred's magic and his Templar Aura – something virtually no demon had experienced so far in the Fade – had kept them at bay.

_How long will I be safe?_

He had spent time training, both physically and mentally. With only a small amount of space around him, he could hardly practice running. However, his motions were much smoother than before. He didn't develop new muscles – he explained it as a side effect of the Fade like him not needing any meals or water – but became faster. Most of the time however, he spent praying or meditating. He felt calmer now than at the start of his enforced exile. His hope and belief had returned and while he still felt loneliness more than once, he dared to believe in a future again.

_What's happening there?_

Some glitter had caught his attention and he whirled around.

_There again._

Cullen narrowed his eyes. He had seen spell-fire often enough to instantly recognize it. Someone was casting spells over there and not of the kind type. He didn't recognize the exact spell but felt its destructive power. The magic of the Fade reacted to those spells and started to whirl around. Cullen's bubble slowly drifted nearer. For a while he was wondering about the source of those spells. Then however he noticed it: another rift.

His heart started to pump faster. Could it be? While his bubble drifted towards the rift, getting faster and faster in the process, he noticed the form of the rift. It was kind of an arched gateway, a bubbly skin separating the Fade from whatever lay behind it. Now and then a spell broke that skin, causing the glitter. _What was behind the gateway?_ Cullen had no idea, but it could hardly be worse than his current prison. Spells meant mages, but mages meant humans – hopefully.

Cullen tried to calm his nerves, concentrated on his breathing and waited, waited for the impact.

"Holy Andraste, be with me in this hour."

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_**Ministry of Magic – Ginny's POV**_

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_Why didn't we listen to Hermione?_ Ginny Weasley wondered not for the first time tonight. The older girl had urged Harry to wait, not to go to the Ministry and instead try harder to reach some member of the Order of the Phoenix. Harry however hadn't listened. He never did. He had this incredible hero-complex and quite a temper to boot but not even an ounce of patience. He was worse than any Weasley in that regard. No, he hadn't listened and decided to fly to the Ministry, to somehow rescue his godfather. As usual he acted without planning, this time not even allowing Hermione to hatch out some basic plan on how to proceed.

Instead Hermione had followed him, as she always did. Ginny remembered the times she had stood alone at Harry's side, when even Ron betrayed him. Now both of them were injured: Ron by some brain tentacles of an unknown nature and that made Ginny shudder to think about, Hermione by a spell from Antonin Dolohov. There was so much blood. Luna was currently trying to stop the blood, while Neville used Hermione's wand in a hopeless attempt to protect the girls as his own wand, the wand of his father, was on the floor, broken – just like his nose.

While the battle around them continued, Ginny shortly pondered about Luna. _Why was she here as well?_ Ginny was happy to have her around but didn't understand it. The presence of the others was explainable. The nice explanation would be that they were Gryffindors to the end, loyal friends who found it impossible not to accompany Harry on this mad adventure. Far more realistic however was another approach: they were followers at the core. Ron, despite his delusions of grandeur, needed Harry to accomplish anything worthwhile. Hermione, the most stubborn among them, still needed a friend to survive, a friend she found in Harry. Neville was slowly developing self-confidence, but was still far away from finding his own path. _And her?_ Ginny sighed. She still had this crush and hoped that one day Harry would realize she was a girl if she only hung around long enough.

This still left Luna. Luna had always only followed her own weird ideas, ideas she never explained in words others were able to comprehend. As Ginny asked her about her reasons, Luna had only smiled and answered: _it will happen tonight_. She didn't explain what would happen, naturally. This left her amused and rolling eyes, while Hermione tried hard convincing her to stay. She had been concerned as always. Since Hermione found the little Ravenclaw without shoes in the middle of the night on her Prefect rounds some months ago, she had behaved like an overprotective older sister towards Luna. However, even she hadn't been able to convince the tiny girl.

Until a few minutes ago, the future had looked very bleak. With Death Eaters incoming from all sides and two of them down, they didn't have even a snowball's chance in hell to win or at least survive the fight. _Merlin, what was I thinking, fighting battle-hardened murderous Death Eaters with only bat-bogey hexes and other child's play spells in my repertoire?_ Their opponents didn't fool around. They used dark spells to maim and kill. _It was poor dumb luck, the luck of fools that nobody had died so far_, Ginny gulped, her eyes on Hermione's unconscious form.

Spell-fire drew her eyes to Harry and Sirius Black. The two of them were fighting Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange. No side was holding back. The arrival of the five order members had tipped the battle in their favour. Now she had a chance to survive this night, to see her parents again. She had a chance despite Harry's foolish actions. She was more than a bit angry at him this moment, not only because of the whole "we have to rescue Sirius" but also because of the prophecy. What was so damned important about this little glass globe? The Death Eaters had threatened to kill his friends if Harry didn't surrender the prophecy. _He actually had to think about it_. Ginny cursed. Sure, Neville had urged him not to comply. Neville had chosen today of all days to play the hero.

Ginny didn't want to die. Merlin, she would turn fifteen this summer. Was it wrong to wish to actually live to see that day? Was it wrong to want to see her parents again? Losing two of her children would completely crush Molly Weasley, Ginny knew. Sometimes having a big heart was a fault. In Ginny's mind a prophecy wasn't worth six lives. Perhaps a soldier would decide otherwise, but she wasn't a soldier. If that made her a coward then so be it.

"SIRIUS!"

The yell prompted Ginny to whirl around only to helplessly watch Sirius Black as he flew through the air. Some spell had hit him and forced him back. It was a bit surreal. One moment he was there and the next...

Just as Sirius reached the portal, with Harry and Remus watching in horror, unable to help, and Bellatrix Lestrange observing the matter with a mad gleam in her eyes, something happened, something nobody had expected or would have thought possible. Just as Sirius' hands and feet connected with the bubbling layer of the portal - some kind of frontier to the place beyond - another body pushed through the portal and pushed him back.

Ginny blinked, stunned, like everybody else in the room. One second she had been sure that Sirius was lost; the next he was on the ground and someone was standing there, someone seemingly coming straight from some weird fairy tale.

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_It was a young man, around twenty she assumed. His face had this chiselled form most of her room members found attractive. Short-cut and red-blond hair, broad shoulders and a body the older girls at Hogwarts would start drooling about right now. Ginny could nearly hear Lavender and Parvati giggling about peeling the foreigner out of his armour and have a peek at what lay beneath. This armour that was the weirdest thing about him: A heavy steel breastplate with some kind of flaming sword emblem on it. A sword in a scabbard was fastened to his belt. Greaves and bracers completed the armour set together with smaller metal pieces – mostly around the shoulders, knees and elbows – and some kind of chain mail connecting the parts. A shield was fastened to his left arm and half raised now as he looked around, a mix of confusion and apprehension in his eyes. _

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For a moment all fighting stopped while everybody was staring at him like a ghost. Ginny noticed the look of shock on Harry's face that turned into heart-felt relief and the burst of rage on Bella's. The red-head wasn't the only one to yell a warning as the mad-woman screamed a spell in the direction of the foreigner. However, only one person was able to react in time: Luna.

The foreigner's battle instinct apparently kicked in, because he – despite obviously still being confused by his surroundings – raised his shield to protect himself. A slightly shimmering shield, Ginny marginally noticed. For a split-second Ginny wondered if the shield would actually hold out against the attack. She had watched Hermione protecting others with conjured slabs of stone in the past. The shield was apparently able to do the same. The dark cutting curse smashed against the shield and was mostly absorbed with a part of the energy diverted as a burst of dazzling light. The foreigner didn't even wince – at least not from the impact of the spell.

Another impact was obviously far more troubling him. Luna, the only one to react in time, had actually jumped him in an attempt to push him out of the line of fire. _She wasn't surprised by his appearance,_ Ginny realized. _She knew, but how?_ Ginny winced as she saw Luna's frail body connecting with the foreigner's steel clad body. _He's at least fifty pounds heavier and is wearing the same weight in metal_. It was as effective as attempting to tear down a brick wall with a feather pillow. It clonked and a second later Luna was on the ground, slightly dazed.

The unsuccessful attack not really bothering Bella Lestrange, she simply continued to emit her mad cackle and left the hall in a hurry, even jumping and bouncing a bit like she immensely enjoyed the whole event. _She's completely nutters_. Harry, his face again turning to pure fury as he remembered that she had tried to kill his godfather, ignored the calls from his friends and chased after her, determined to avenge his godfather's death.

The foreigner however stared at the little girl at his feet.

"You… you tried to save me." He stated with no small amount of wonder in his voice. And what a voice it was. Ginny shivered slightly. Deep and resonating as it was, tale-tellers and newsreaders would kill for a voice like this. Luna only nodded with a smile on her lips.

"But… you're a mage." He frowned.

"Witch," Luna responded, her smile broadening. "I'm called a witch."

"There is no reason to slight yourself," the foreigner scolded her, his voice softening. "It's not your fault that Andraste bestowed the gift of magic on you. What you do about it – and with it, however will be yours."

Ginny had no idea what he was speaking about, who this Andraste was or what it had to do with magic, but she could have listened to this voice forever. Glancing in Luna's face she realized that she wasn't the only one feeling like this. The foreigner stepped forward and offered Luna his hand, hesitated for a moment before pulling off the metal glove he wore as he offered his assistance once again. All this was done with the power and grace of a large hunting cat. Ginny had expected something different: clanking metal and ungainly motions_. Shouldn't all this metal hinder him somehow? _There was however a hint of a blush on his cheeks as Luna gracefully accepted his help standing up; it was a reaction Ginny found quite cute and endearing. Despite the physical similarities he was certainly not like Viktor Krum, not used to female attention.

"C-Cullen Stanton Rutherford from Honnleath, at your service," he bowed slightly.

"Luna Lovegood," Luna responded with a curtsey. Everybody was staring at the couple in wonder. It was so surreal.

"If I may be so bold to ask: are you still an apprentice or already a full-fledged mage?"

Again this word, Ginny wondered but continued to listen.

"I'm a student of the arts, Sir Cullen. I'll take my exam in three years."

"I'm certain you'll pass your Harrowing with flying colours." _Harrowing?_

"I thank you for your words of trust," Luna continued to speak weirdly. It was as if she understood what this weird foreigner was speaking about, something the other occupants of the room didn't share. A low groan interrupted Ginny's daydreaming and admiration.

_How could I forget her?_ She scolded herself. Remus was examining Hermione while Tonks had hastened at Sirius' side. She consoled Remus: "He's alright – a few broken bones but nothing life-threatening." She glanced towards the gateway and Cullen, expressing without words how different the result would have been without Cullen's sudden appearance.

"Hermione is worse. We should transport her to the Hospital immediately. Poppy must have a look and fast."

"You should stop the curse first," Cullen, who had watching him, interrupted him just as Remus moved to pick Hermione up. "It's still doing its dark work."

"I certainly would do that if I could," Remus snarled, regretting his harsh words instantly as Cullen put his shield on his back and draw a sharp and very pointy dagger. Noticing Remus feeble attempt to step back and draw his wand, Cullen raised his eyebrow. "Don't," he simply said. The one word was enough to stop Remus from doing something stupid. "If I wanted to kill you I would hardly use a dagger." He glanced towards his sheathed sword. "However, I need skin contact to stop the curse. I only want to help her."

"Why?" Remus asked with no small amount of trepidation. He knew better than to simply trust a foreigner's word.

"She's obviously Apprentice Luna's friend." Luna's smile became dazzling.

"She's more than that," Neville mumbled thanks to his broken nose. "Hermione is our big sister." Ginny nodded eagerly.

"One more reason to help her," Cullen simply stated and Remus obliged. He closely watched Cullen cut the robes and reveal the extent of Hermione's injury. Ginny had to bite her hand to stop her scream and Neville looked ill. There was a long, jagged gash across Hermione's chest, starting below her left breast and going down all the way to her left hip. It was deep and heavily bleeding. The greenish colour of the wound bode ill as well.

Cullen kneeled down, pulled a little vial with something that apparently was only clear water from a pouch and offered it Luna. "On my sign, use it to clean her wound." After getting a curt nod, Cullen put both bare hands on her skin to the left and right of the wound and started to whisper something that seemed to be a prayer. For a while nothing happened and Remus got a little antsy. Tonks had to put a hand on his arm to stop him from interrupting Cullen. Ginny's eyes widened as a bluish glow appeared around Cullen's hands and started to cover Hermione's chest. The blue light and the green of the wound seemed to battle for dominance for a while, until Cullen nodded. Luna started to use the water and slowly the blue light began to win. More and more it destroyed the green and the wound turned a serious but more normal deep red. It still didn't look healthy but like something Poppy could handle.

Cullen leant back, a bit exhausted apparently. "Is this Poppy a good healer?"

"The best," Luna stated with determination.

"Good," Cullen curtly nodded. Surprisingly gently he put his arms under the girl and lifted her from the ground. "Lead the way."

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_**A/N**_

_In Dragon Age mages are looked upon as untrustworthy and dangerous because of their connection to the "Fade", the plane of dreams, magic and demons. Because of this, their life is regulated and controlled. They are forced to live in so-called Circles, guarded and often isolated buildings (in Cullen's case a tower on an island). The Church (the state Church believing in the "Maker" and his prophet "Andraste") has the duty to guard them and uses the Templars (kind of clerical knight order) as the appropriate tool to do just this. Templars have special anti-magic powers to supplement their more traditional martial training._

_Xander Amell is the main character of Dragon Age Origins Computer Game (one of the possible choices at least) and doesn't play an important role in this story. _

_Blood Magic is a special kind of magic (which has often to do with using magic to strengthen spells, hence the name) and is most often learned from demons._

_Harrowing is the "exam" of DA mages and puts them into the Fade and against Demons to test their will._


	2. Chapter 2 Is this your Circle?

_**A/N**_

_This chapter will be at a more sedate pace, mostly conversations and first impressions. _

**.**

**Is this your Circle?**

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_**Hogwarts – Hospital Wing**_

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He woke up with a start. Cullen needed a few moments to comprehend that he wasn't in the Fade anymore. _I'm home again_, he sighed with relief as he sank back into his soft pillow, only to instantly jump up again. He closed his eyes and his mood deflated. _No, I'm not home. I'm somewhere far away. I'm farther away from home than should be possible, with no way of return. I'll never see her again_.

For a while he succumbed to self-pity – something he had rarely allowed himself to feel, express or show in the past. It only stopped as he felt a tiny, cool hand grip his own and softly pressing it. He opened his eyes, his brown eyes meeting Luna's pale grey ones, showing no small amount of concern while her smile was openly supportive.

"Hello Sir Cullen."

"Hello Apprentice Luna." He sat up and even allowed Luna to help him, not something he would have done on any other day. "And it's Ser Cullen or Templar Cullen," he corrected absent-mindedly. He watched her as she pushed a cushion behind his back and tried to gauge her. Despite the last experiences of the past, foremost Uldred's betrayal, he felt himself unable not to trust her. His training told him not to believe appearances, but his heart told him that this girl had no false bone in her body. "Or simply Cullen for you," for the first time he showed a small smile of his own. "I can't exactly insist on formalities after you tried to save me."

"Okay, Cullen it is then," her smile became that dazzling one he had seen once before. He shouldn't be happy to be here. He should wish to get home as soon as possible. However, he couldn't help himself: he wanted to stay here for a while, here in this bed. Blushing deeply he looked down. He wore some kind of nightdress. At least he was covered. It was still unacceptable to be in bed with a young woman around. His older sister had married at fifteen. He remembered the day vividly and wondered if Luna was already engaged. _Where did that thought come from?_ He scolded himself.

"Madam Pomfrey switched your clothes," Luna explained with her sing-song voice, while fiddling with a tablet. She put it down on his lap and poured some weird juice into a glass. He eyed the glass warily.

Luna bent forward, pointed with her finger to come closer and whispered: "don't drink it. It's pure poison." As she noticed his slightly shocked expression, Luna started to giggle, snitched the glass and started to drink, only to open her eyes wide seconds later. She clutched her chest over her heart and slowly sank to the ground with a low moan. Flabbergasted Cullen watched her. For a while Luna was lying on the ground with closed eyes. Only then did she open one of them and grinned.

"You're weird, Apprentice Luna," Cullen commented as she stood up again and poured him another glass of juice.

"I've heard that from time to time," Luna commented, her good humour gone. "They call me Looney," she whispered a tad sad.

"I would never do that," Cullen shook his head. He had earned his own share of ridicule back at the Circle, mostly because the other squires didn't understand his dedication and zeal. "You're weird in a good way."

Luna's good mood instantly returned. She pointed to the glass: "drink."

Cullen obeyed but frowned as he noticed the taste. "Is this pumpkin?"

Luna nodded: "don't you like it?"

"It a bit… peculiar," he tried to be polite, his grimace betraying him after another sip.

Luna grinned. "Would you like some apple juice instead?"

"Oh yes, please" his enthusiasm prompted another giggle.

"Winky?" For a moment Cullen watched her in wonder as Luna called someone. _Winky? Who's Winky?_ His wonder turned into horror as the tiny house elf appeared. "Miss Luna called? What can…"

"DEMON!" Cullen's yell rolled through the Hospital Wing, stirring everyone from their sleep. With consternation Luna watched Cullen jump from the bed and just wanted to warn him that his nightdress had a slit at the back and that he was mooning her when Cullen fetched his sword and unsheathed it. Winky froze, her eyes wide open, as Cullen jumped her, the weapon raised to put her down. Only Luna's hasty intervention saved her life.

"No!" Her sing-sang voice was gone as she jumped between the house-elf and the Templar, sword-wearing hand raised.

"Sep aside," Cullen ordered. "It's a Demon." In Cullen's mind there was no other explanation. He had never seen a creature like this and her sudden appearance out of thin air only proved that he was right.

"Cullen, stop," Luna actually put a hand on his sword arm, never thinking that she could be endangering herself. Cullen would never harm her, she was certain. "You frighten her."

Cullen blinked. He allowed Luna to push his arm down. "I… I frighten her?" He asked slightly mesmerized by the sight of a tiny creature hiding behind a not much bigger girl. There was no malevolence in the creature's eyes, only pure terror. Cullen felt actually bad. _How had he erred so much? _"She…" _it's a she?_ "She is not a Demon?"

"Winky is a house elf. And Winky is my friend." Luna actually glared him down now, putting her other hand around the trembling elf. Like Hermione felt protective towards her, so did Luna around Winky. She had met the house elf one night, drinking and singing badly but very sadly. Winky had felt all alone without someone to care about and Luna had started to bond with her.

"A house elf?" He eyed the creature suspiciously. "You mean a city elf? She's not big enough to be an elf." He looked closely. "She has their pointy ears however."

"No, Winky is a house elf. She serves the inhabitants of Hogwarts. Most house elves serve a single family, but not her."

Hogwarts – Cullen remembered that someone called this place Hogwarts. It was apparently Luna's Circle. So, this was a kind of magical servant. Perhaps she was something like a magical construct. "Is she… you know: magically created?"

"No, silly," Luna relaxed. "She has a family, parents, siblings…" Luna turned around. "That reminds me: you never spoke of your family. Have you got siblings, Winky?" She tried to distract the terrified elf.

Winky struggled to break her eyes away from the frightening man. "Winky has younger sister, Miss Luna."

Luna turned around again to Cullen: "See? Winky has a sister. No demon, not created; breathing, serving, friendly house elf." Her tone was not amused and slightly scolding. Feeling like a little boy about to get an earful, Cullen's ear tips blazed. He looked down to his sword as if asking: _what's this? Where did I get this? _Hastily he re-sheathed the sword and mumbled. "I'm sorry, Winky. I didn't want to frighten you. You scared me a bit."

Winky actually grinned now and puffed her tiny chest. Never before had she scared someone.

"Is he forgiven, Winky?" Luna asked softly. Winky nodded eagerly, her long ears shaking violently.

"You're forgiven, Cullen," Luna stated calmly. "We won't see a repeat of this ever again, I hope," she added in her best Minerva McGonagall imitation. Hermione would have been proud.

_I've still got much to learn about this place_, Cullen realized.

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_**On the way to Albus' office**_

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_Where are their Templars?_ Cullen wondered while he followed the boy towards the Headmaster's office.

The arrival at this place had been weird enough, via… how did they call it? Floo. Stepping into a fireplace and leave another one mile away was certainly not something he had expected as he ordered that haggard man to "lead the way". However, he had been too occupied with the injured girl and closely watched the healer doing her job. Madam Poppy Pomfrey – he already liked her. She was a no-nonsense woman and apparently very competent in her job. After doing everything to heal the girl – Cullen had been fascinated how fast the wound closed – he had allowed her to examine him. Not, that he really needed it, but the exhaustion of the last weeks was catching up. He hadn't been able to really recover from the time in the Circle tower while he stayed in the Fade.

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_Flashback_

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"I presume your fast acting rescued the girl," Madam Pomfrey stated calmly. "In any case it prevented her wound to cause a permanent scar."

"That's good, isn't it?" Cullen reciprocated. He had only done his duty. "Girls back home don't like scars. I don't assume that's different here. And this would have been a big one."

Poppy smiled: "you're right. She wouldn't have liked it, despite Miss Granger not being your usual girlie girl."

_So she's not too occupied with her appearance_, Cullen mused_. It could be expected with all of her friends thinking of her as their big sister_. "Why was she there in the first place, she and her friends? Teenagers shouldn't be fighting." _Not that it had stopped Uldred from killing most of the children at the tower_.

"No, they shouldn't," Poppy agreed, for a moment smiling at the young man. "But that's a question you should ask Headmaster Dumbledore… after a good night's rest." She pushed him down on his bed and dampened the light, not willing to see reason. To his own surprise, it needed only a few moments for sleep to catch him.

.

_End Flashback_

.

And now he was following the boy – Luna had called him Harry Potter. This place was far bigger than the Circle at home. There were many windows and more than once Cullen had admired the view. A lake was out there – but only near the castle, not surrounding it like a prison wall – and in the background he saw a deep green forest encroaching the whole area. More than once they met students on their way, students that most often stopped and openly gawked at him. So far he had seen only children between ten-eleven and seventeen-eighteen at most. No adults, no guards, no full-fledged mages. It was very weird.

Cullen glanced around. He felt like being followed since his arrival. It was something that could be expected to happen. Certainly the headmaster didn't trust him enough to allow him uncontrolled presence at his school. It would be careless to do so. Whoever shadowed him was apparently magically hidden as he wasn't able to detect him. Still he got the feeling, and the raised hackles stayed.

Luna was left behind in the Hospital Wing, watching over Hermione and the red-haired boy – _Ron Weasley, brother of Ginny Weasley_, he remembered. He was now wearing his armour without the breastplate, greaves and bracers – padded underwear and chainmail mostly – as well as his belt with dagger and sword. Cullen felt a bit incomplete without breastplate and shield, but it had been his compromise with Luna. She had tried to explain that nobody wore armour around here. _What are their Templars wearing?_

"Liquorice," Harry said to the stone gargoyle guarding the entrance and it moved aside, prompting Cullen to frown – for the thirty-eight time this morning.

_I hope this headmaster has some answers for me._

.

_**Albus' office**_

.

"Lemon drop?" Albus asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

"No, thank you, Sir," Cullen didn't like sweets very much and he knew better than to accept something from an unknown mage. It was difficult to differentiate with all the magic in this room, but his sense told him that there was something odd about the cup of sweets. Dumbledore's frown proved him right as he stopped Harry's hand from accepting one.

"I hope you recovered a bit from your ordeal?" _What do you know about my ordeal?_ Cullen wondered, narrowing his eyes a bit. The presence of the phoenix was an assuring sign, but so far he didn't trust the man. Like Poppy reminded him of Healer Wynne, so did Albus Dumbledore in a less positive way remind him of First Enchanter Irving: more of a politician than a mage. And there was still this fifth presence. It was stronger now than before in the corridors. Was someone watching them hidden under an invisibility spell? But why? It didn't make sense right now.

"I'm alright, Sir," Cullen calmly responded. He looked around. "I only wonder… shouldn't the Commander of your Circle's Templars be here as well? I'm more his duty than yours, I assume."

"Ah, Templar," Albus nodded with a thoughtful smile. "I already heard about that part." _I wonder how and where._ "You see: some things are a bit different here."

Cullen stiffened for a moment. "Different? How different?" Had they experienced something like his home Circle? Had they got rid of their Templar detachment?

"As I understood in your home country Templars watch over mages, am I correct?"

"We guard and protect them, yes," Cullen nodded. He omitted the part of controlling their lives as he had the impression Dumbledore wouldn't like that tiny part.

"We have a similar force here. They're called Aurors. However they're wizards too and usually stay at the Ministry."

"The Ministry was that place where we met?" Albus nodded. Cullen pondered about this bit of information. "And they aren't staying here? None of them?"

"No," Albus smiled a tad condescendingly.

"Mages watching mages? And that works?"

"Rarely," Harry snickered, uttering his first word since their arrival. Albus' glare didn't stop him. He felt angry since he nearly had to watch his godfather die. Like Cullen he had no small amount of questions. Like Cullen he wanted answers. Unlike Cullen however, he wasn't willing to be patient and polite – not anymore, not today.

"They won't accept that Voldemort returned and is gathering his forces to wrack havoc. They aren't protecting Muggleborns but instead squander their time calling me a fame-seeking liar. They even sent that horrid bitch to Hogwarts."

"Madam Umbridge," Albus nodded gravely, while Cullen tried to make sense of Harry's words. It could easily have been Qunari. "The Aurors found her at the edge of the forest. It wasn't nice to leave her at the Centaurs' mercy. I'll have to speak with Miss Granger about it."

"Hermione did the right thing. Umbridge was a horrid woman," Harry harrumphed. "She used blood quills on us." He bared his forearm and Cullen noticed a faint lettering _"I shall not lie"_. The aura of blood magic was palpable.

Cullen grabbed his hand, an expression of loath and disgust on his face. "This is the work of this Umbridge?"

"Madam Umbridge," Albus corrected. "She has been a Professor at Hogwarts this year. We have been at odds."

"Has she been imprisoned for this?" Cullen asked with forced calmness, while he examined the lettering, Harry closely watching him. Cullen had the sudden impression that Harry was unused to someone standing up for him like this, for his right. It infuriated him.

"It's not this easy…"

"Why not?" Harry and Cullen growled at the same time, staring in each other's eyes for a moment. "This is blood magic," Cullen continued with barely constrained anger. "She has to be punished and her belongings searched. It can be expected that she has more of those… blood quills." He calmed a bit and explained to Harry: "someone should have healed this months ago. I'm not certain that I can help you now. It's too ingrained after all those weeks."

Harry shrugged, not too happy but equally not too disappointed. "There are worse things. It would still be nice to get rid of it. Hermione did what she could back then."

"You should have gone to Madam Pomfrey," Cullen scolded softly.

"Hermione said the same," Harry smiled sadly.

"She seems to be a wise girl."

"The best," Harry sighed. "She told me not to go to the Ministry, you know?"

Cullen nodded gravely. Albus however messed up the situation with his next words: "yes, you shouldn't have gone. You should have stayed at Hogwarts, Harry." There was a hint of falsehood in his voice.

"I would have," Harry growled "if I had known about the prophecy." Albus tried to stop him with a glance towards Cullen, but Harry was on a roll. "You never spoke with me last year. You allowed that bitch to unhorse you and to bully us. I wasn't allowed to speak with Sirius. Professor McGonagall wasn't able or willing to help us. How should I have known that Sirius was safe? How should I have known that Voldemort only wanted to lure me into the Ministry to lay his dirty hands on the prophecy?"

"Harry, this isn't the time…"

"This is exactly the time," Harry yelled, half standing up. "What is so damned important about that blasted prophecy? Sirius nearly died if not for Cullen's arrival. Hermione nearly died. She would have been marred for the rest of her life without Cullen's magic." He didn't see Cullen's grimace. _It's certainly not magic,_ Cullen pouted silently. Normally he would have stopped the boy and enforced peace. Irving certainly would never allow a mere student to behave like this. Harry however apparently wasn't your of-the-rack student and this prophecy aroused Cullen's interest, especially if it had been the cause of endangering Hermione… and Luna.

"Harry, perhaps we could later speak about this," again he glanced towards Cullen but startled as Harry slammed his hand on the table. Cullen had to suppress a grin. _No more dodging questions, Headmaster. Answers, we want answers._

.

_**On their way back**_

.

"Don't you want to scold me for destroying Dumbledore's office?" Harry asked, still fuming. After a long discussion – and some serious bashing of the old man and his office – they had left the room.

Cullen shrugged. "You certainly have a bit of a temper problem, but I understand why you've been angry. He should have told you sooner."

Cullen's voice was surprisingly soft and caring. It reminded Harry much of Charlie or Bill Weasley, the two boys that had been his closest to big brothers in the past. His mind was still racing about everything Albus had told him: the prophecy, the reason of Voldemort going after him, why his parents had died. And Cullen was right: he should have known earlier.

Albus reasoning was… weird, to say the slightest. _I wanted you to have a real childhood_. Harry noticed Cullen's reaction when he threw a few "anecdotes" about his life at Privet Drive 4 in Albus' face, about his aunt's hate towards magic and his life under the cupboard. Cullen hadn't been happy, that for sure. Harry however concentrated on Albus and his urge to slam his fist into the old man's nose.

"Why didn't he tell me? If I had known… if I had any idea that Voldemort could WANT me to go there… it was a trap and I fell for it." He laughed without humour. "Hermione said I had a hero-complex. She was right."

Cullen nodded slowly. "Apparently she knows you well – and others too. It seems this Voldemort knew how you would react – and how the others around you would react."

Harry looked up slightly puzzled.

"Your friends: would you have gone without them?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm not sure. Perhaps… yes, I think."

"And would you have been able to reach that Hall of Prophecies?"

Harry pondered about that. The hall had been protected by magic and that door-riddle. Would he have been able to solve that? He slowly shook his head: "I don't think so."

"Luna told me those… how do you call them? Death Eaters?" Harry nodded and Cullen continued. "They blackmailed you with the lives of your friends. I don't know you very well but you seem to be someone who couldn't be forced to do something with endangering your own life. It had to be the life of your friends. My conclusion: Voldemort knew that you would try to rescue your godfather and he knew that your friends would accompany you. And he expected – quite correctly – that none of the adults would be willing or able to assist you – or stop you." It had been a point of incredible annoyance to Cullen that none of the teachers had stopped or aided the boy. The boy seemed to trust his head of the house, this Professor McGonagall. After the stories he heard this morning, Cullen wasn't certain that he shared the feeling.

"Seems right to me," Harry agreed. Slowly he felt his rage – no, not disappear, but covered by a thin sheet of cool control. It was still there but not violently flaring.

"How does he know you so well?"

"Snape, I think." Harry answered cautiously, not fully convinced.

"Who's Snape?"

"My potions teacher," Harry explained his disgust clearly audible and visible. "He's head of house Slytherin and was Voldemort's follower in the past. Headmaster Dumbledore trusts him but…"

"You don't?"

"Not completely," Harry sighed. "I know that he knew my parents. My father and he hated each other. I think that's the reason he hates me too. From the first day he had been after me. However, more than once he helped me. I'm simply not certain on whose side he really is and what he is forced to tell Voldemort to protect himself."

"Makes sense that he often speaks to him about you," Cullen calmly agreed. "He certainly has to be very careful running on the fence. Any other options?" He glanced at Harry's head "perhaps this scar of yours?"

"You noticed that, didn't you?" Harry again laughed his humourless laugh. "I got it as a toddler. Voldemort killed my parents and tried to kill me. Somehow the spell backfired. His body was destroyed until his return one year ago and I was left with this scar. It somehow connects us. I dream about him and I think I saw those visions about Sirius because of this connection. Perhaps he is able to… I don't know… watch me or at least feel me. I'm able to feel him too, sometimes, mostly when he has strong emotions."

That sounded awful like blood magic. He could feel the unnaturalness of the scar and wondered – not for the first time – why the headmaster did nothing about it. "You should learn meditation. It helps to clear your mind, to control your emotions and to block mental intrusions."

"Sounds much like Occlumency," Harry shrugged. "Snape tried to teach me last year, Dumbledore demanded it. We didn't get far."

"With the feelings this Snape and you have towards each other, it is a stupid idea to have him teach you." Harry completely supported that. "You have to trust your teacher or at least feel respect and tolerance towards him."

"You tell me," Harry snickered. He glanced towards the young man. "It sounds like you know something about it. Could you teach me?"

Cullen stopped and stared at him, pondering about the question for a while before he nodded slowly: "if you really want, yes. I think your headmaster is irresponsible in allowing children to fight this war, but with things as they are, you could certainly use it."

"I really want it," Harry said with determination in his voice, a determination that shouldn't be in the voice of a fifteen-year-old. "My friends nearly died because of me."

"You should speak with them," Cullen stated strongly. "They're not especially happy with you at the moment – not because you fell for the trap but how you handled the mess." Harry winced. "Ginny feared you judged the prophecy to be more valuable than the life of your friends; and Neville… you chose revenge and followed that mad woman instead of assuring first that Hermione would survive." Harry paled but had no words to answer the accusations. He had acted like Sirius did all those years ago, chasing Pettigrew instead of assuring that Harry had a good childhood. Sirius was in part responsible for his time at Privet Drive_. I should have got Hermione to Madam Pomfrey instead of playing the hero_.

"Your friends followed you. They thought you to be wrong about the whole matter but they nevertheless decided to go with you. They have a right to ask that you act responsible. Taking risks is good and well, but acting with a cool head is better. You didn't know the content of the prophecy and so you made a decision, a difficult decision. You chose the warrior's path when they wanted to see you to act as a friend. I can't and won't decide if you made the right choice, but you should explain it to them. They will understand." After a moment he added: "and speak with Hermione. Don't shy away because you feel responsible for her injury. You're not. It was her decision to be your friend. I don't expect her to regret it, but she will be hurt if you dodge her now." Cullen hoped that he interpreted Luna's stories correctly, however fantastic they sounded – rescue from a troll in first year and all.

"Okay," Harry whispered with a slightly hoarse voice. "I'll try."

.

_**Great Hall**_

.

They had collected Ginny and Neville from the Hospital Wing and were on their way to the Great Hall. While Harry was speaking with his friends – Hermione and Ron were still sleeping under Luna's vigil – Cullen was mulling over Dumbledore. Things were really different here. They hadn't spoken much about Cullen's home and how he got here but Cullen had the impression the old man knew far more about those things than should be expected. _Perhaps others from Thedas had been here in the past_. He had dashed any hopes of Cullen of ever returning. Again Cullen didn't trust him in the matter and decided that he would try to get other opinions first. For the moment they had decided not to tell others were he came from. Not that it really helped. Too many on both sides had seen him arrive.

The headmaster tried to learn more about Cullen's abilities – the story of him deflecting that spell with his shield apparently impressed him. And he obviously wanted to hire him or something. _He wants another weapon in his arsenal_, Cullen decided with a sneer. He knew this kind of leader, seeing only tools and chess pieces in their men. He had no respect for their kind.

He didn't understand this war. In a way it was like at home only the other way round. In Thedas mages were watched closely. Everybody expected them to turn into raving mad murderers any moment, believed that every mage was a hidden blood mage and demon conspirator. _Too bad Uldred proved them right_. However, it was a war between mages and non-mages. Here wizard fought wizard because of how long the gift of magic had been in their family. In Thedas, a girl like Hermione Granger, born to "normal" people but with magic in her blood, would have been despised by her own family and neighbours because of her talent. Here she was despised because her parents didn't share her talent. _Weird, really weird_, Cullen mused.

They entered the Great Hall and all talking stopped. Cullen wasn't certain if he or Harry caused more interested looks and glares, but their little group certainly caught much attention. The sensation of being here was disturbing. This world's magic was different to the one he had known before. Hogwarts had apparently been created on a crossroad of several ley lines. It was nearly as magical as the Circle Tower. However, there wasn't the same amount of magic within this new world it seemed. The border between this world and the Fade was thicker, the amount of magic spilling over thinner. His night had been calmer with dreams far less vivid.

On the other hand, every student – or adult – had more magic on their own. Poppy called it their magical core. It felt like a big vial of Lyrium enclosed in their bodies. He wasn't certain how his abilities would react to these changes. As he noticed a blond guy walking towards Harry, he had the feeling that he soon would find out.

.

"POTTER!"

The hall was full of students and nearly a dozen adults were sitting at the staff table. Still, nobody interrupted this fight. Nobody moved to stop them. It was unbelievable. Nothing like this would be allowed to happen at the Circle tower. Cullen could nearly hear the heavy footsteps of Templars rushing in to quell the disruption.

"What it is, Malfoy?" Harry responded calmly. His hand was on his wand, his knuckles white, but he did a fabulous job of controlling his temper. _Malfoy? Wasn't that the name of the Death Eaters' leader at the Ministry? _Actually he looked much like the blond man leading them.

Another glance at the staff table: nobody moved. Only the smallest one tried to intervene, to be stopped by the headmaster. _That must be this Professor Flitwick Luna told about_. She adored her head of house Ravenclaw. _Perhaps I should speak with him within the next days_. _He at least seems to care._ If nothing else he wanted to tell him about the bullying Luna had experienced from her own housemates in the past, a bullying that lasted until she got friends among the Gryffindors. A stern looking woman asked the headmaster something before leaning back and watching the exchange with a frown, while a man with long, greasy-looking hairs, actually sneered. _Potions_, Cullen realized. He knew the signs, how hair reacted to endless hours around potion fumes. Back at the Circle, most potioneers quickly learned to cut their hair very short. Most of them were Tranquils anyway, their lack of emotion not allowing them to take pride in a flowing mane.

Cullen didn't like the situation one bit. It felt like one of those power plays he had been forced to watch back at home. Gregoire and Irving would push around their chess pieces to get an edge in their power play or to simply humiliate the other. There had been rumours about First Enchanter Irving not stopping blood mage Jowan's flight attempt in time, because he wanted to see not only a mage but a church member too standing in the dock. In the end, Jowan had been able to flee successfully, while Lily, a young sister of the church madly in love with Jowan, had been sentenced to Aeonar. Lily never knew about Jowan's blood magic, his pact with demons. She was simply a young woman struggling between love and faith. Cullen had pleaded for leniency, but Gregoire didn't listen. Until now Cullen was certain that Gregoire only had been too angry about losing that "game" to see reason. And a young woman had to pay the price.

Now Cullen felt watched again, this time by the headmaster. _He wants to see how Harry and I handle the matter_. So far Harry did well in Cullen's opinion, obviously not in Dumbledore's. The other staff members were watching them closely too, as could be expected. However, he still felt something else, an invisible presence gauging him. He was reminded of that day when he had to stand guard over _her_ at her harrowing. It was her last trial before she became a full-fledged mage, but it was his trial too, the last test that he was able to fulfil his duty, even if it meant to kill _her_.

"It's your fault my father is in Azkaban, Potter. You'll pay for that."

"He attacked us, Malfoy," Harry answered calmly, his controlled reaction surprising his friends more than a bit. "He attacked my friends and would have killed us."

"Who would miss a bunch of Mudbloods and Blood-Traitors?" Draco Malfoy sneered.

Cullen didn't know these terms but they didn't sound good. For a moment Harry wanted to go for his wand, but a single shake of Cullen's head stopped him. Draco noticed the exchanged, whirled around and smirked. "Yeah, listen to the squib. Perhaps they'll allow you to help him clean the floors together with Filch."

"In my home country it's actually the mage apprentices like you that get to clean the floors as punishment," Cullen blandly responded. He didn't want to be like this but the blond git was getting on his nerves. It was obvious why Harry hated the boy. "Naturally that's only for smaller infractions. More serious ones get you some days in the dungeon or twenty lashes with the whip." _You wouldn't be so haughty after that._

Draco looked flabbergasted and slightly shocked, while Harry grinned. "Filch would love to do that, I think," Neville tossed in with an equally broad grin.

"How dare you, filthy squib." There was that word again. Poppy had explained that Cullen was – theoretically and technically – a squib. Something about measuring the strength of his power core, she had explained after the examination. He had a magical core bigger than Muggles, how they called non-mages here, but not nearly strong enough to cast spells. She had no answer to the question how he was able to use his Templar skills or what made them different from spells. Cullen intended to spend some time solving those questions in the near future. The time in the Fade had somehow changed him. He felt far stronger than before. Especially his senses had extended and intensified. Cullen was now able to feel all kind of things around him – things like that bit of dark magic on the arm of that greasy-haired professor. _Why was he allowed around the students with this mark on his soul?_

"Calm down, Apprentice Malfoy. Return to your table and behave like it would be appropriate for a man of your age and uprising." Cullen didn't expect the man to obey without grumbling, but certainly he didn't expect him to be this stupid. Was it the company of those two gorillas at his sides? Was it the presence of his house-mates that he wanted to play the strong guy? Whatever the reason of his reaction, it was a very stupid one in Cullen's eyes. However, in his favour he had to say that Malfoy didn't know about his opponent's abilities. He only saw a squib with a big knife.

The blond boy lashed out with his wand – _he must have hidden it in his sleeve, the coward_ – and yelled "Stupefy!"

Ginny wanted to jump in between, but was stopped cold as Neville grabbed her. The stunning spell hit Cullen in the chest. Something blue flared and the Templar didn't even budge. Malfoy frowned, staring at the weird man in wonder and waiting for any kind of reaction, hopefully simply toggling to the ground. His eyes widened in an amusing way as Cullen simply turned half around and asked Ginny: "what's with you girls here and your urge to protect me?" There was far more wondering and sympathy in his voice than actual criticism.

"You should have known better, Ginny," Neville half-whispered with a grin "after Luna's attempt at tackling him."

"Expelliarmus!" Harry had used the moment of stunned surprise to go for his own wand and disarm Malfoy. This only prompted gorilla one and gorilla two to lift their own wands. This was fast expanding into a full-grown battle, Cullen realized. In a second Ginny and Neville would jump at Harry's side, there was no doubt. Meanwhile Draco was reaching for his boot, expectedly to pull a second wand. This had to stop now.

"Andraste's peace!" Cullen bellowed and made a gesture like hitting an anvil with a smith hammer. A sphere of light burst from his hand and enveloped all six teenagers. It somehow shocked them, stunned them and left them slightly drained. Only Harry was left standing, all others were on their knees, shaking their heads in confusion about the weird experience. Cullen felt a tad guilty about doing this to Harry and his friends too, but they had to learn to control their temper as well. And regretfully the Templars at the Circle never learnt how to differentiate between mages within the scope of their abilities. _Perhaps I should train to do so_, Cullen mused. _With the differences in magic it should be possible to use my powers and exempt Harry_.

"There won't be any more fighting. This is your last warning." Cullen had been careful to use only a tiny amount of his enhanced powers. He knew they would only be stunned for a few seconds and the draining effect wouldn't last long.

Only now did the teachers react and come running, the greasy haired one in the lead. None of them however was close enough to stop Malfoy from committing his next idiocy. Apparently he felt humiliated in front of his house-mates and his pride commanded him to extract revenge. He actually pulled his spare wand and, still kneeling on the ground, pointed it towards Cullen: "Messor…"

Cullen felt the dark energy gathering around Malfoy's wand and saw the look of concern on Greasy's face. He jumped into action. In one swift motion he drew his sword and cut through the wand. Suddenly Malfoy had only a pitiable stump in his hand, emitting only harmless sparks. His eyes followed the tip of the sword as Cullen pointed it towards Malfoy's nose. It was actually quite funny to watch Malfoy contort his eyes as he stared at the frightening blade.

"Feel the Maker's wrath."

This time it wasn't possible not to see the blue light gathering around Cullen before it exploded, followed the length of his sword and smashed into the boy. Malfoy was blasted away and landed on the ground in a heap, deeply unconscious.

"What have you done?" Snape snarled, moving to raise his own wand.

"Don't," Cullen stopped him. His voice was cold as ice and most onlookers felt a shudder. "Stand back, Blood Mage." Snape's eyes widened. "I don't know why the Headmaster allows a disgusting creature of darkness like you to stay here, but listen and listen closely: draw your wand on me or those under my protection and I will cut you down like a rabid dog." He meant every word of it. It wasn't only the bit of magic on his arm that troubled Cullen. There was a whole aura of dark magic around the man. He had used dark magic and far more often than once. Perhaps he had some explanations, reasons why "he simply had to use it". They always had. They were always lying – to him or to themselves. Even with the best of intentions, this kind of magic sooner or later tainted the soul.

"Now, now," Albus arrived at last, showing his best twinkle and grandfatherly face. For a moment Cullen shared Harry's urge to punch him in the face. "There is no reason to be hasty." He gestured towards Snape, who puffed his chest and tried to appear haughty and unmoved by Cullen's words. "Professor Snape has my complete trust."

"Then you're either careless or simply stupid." Cullen commented, prompting some snickers, the loudest one from Harry. _At least he isn't dark himself_, Cullen mused. It would have been the third possible explanation for this trust bullshit, but he didn't feel the same dark aura around the headmaster. The phoenix would have left him otherwise, too. _That's something at least_, Cullen sighed.

Dumbledore frowned, but let the matter rest for now. Instead he waved his wand over the unconscious boy and asked, his expression completely flabbergasted for once: "His magical core is dampened. It's like magical exhaustion but far more complete. It looks like you turned him into a squib." It was half a statement, half a question and certainly appropriate to cause a round of pure horror from everyone. Cullen actually saw some of the teachers and many students shrink back from him. Only Harry and a few other Gryffindors grinned, obviously happy about the change. Cullen glared at him. The boy still had much to learn.

"It is only temporarily," he more or less soothed the headmaster's concern. Dumbledore opened his mouth, certainly to ask how long the condition would last. Cullen however had no answer to that question, not with the changes. Actually he was interested in the answer himself. However, he had more important things to do right now. With the bulk of the students present as well as most staff members, he had to do something about this open fighting – and the lack of activities among the teachers. They hadn't Templars – or Aurors – at Hogwarts, but now they had him. Legally it wasn't his duty to enforce peace, but his conscience told otherwise. He couldn't live with himself, knowing that he did nothing to improve the situation. He had seen one Circle being torn apart by inner fighting. He wouldn't stand another one.

"There won't be any more fighting in the corridors and halls of Hogwarts," he calmly announced with a clear voice. "This is a place of living and learning. In a few days all of you will return to your families for the summer break." The concept had actually stunned Cullen into silence for a few minutes and Luna had to swear that she wasn't telling a fib as she spoke about it. "Until then you will behave, restrain from cursing and bad-mouthing other students only because they or their parents don't share the opinion of your family. Everybody who draws a wand in rage or malice to hurt another student will be punished. War has no place at Hogwarts."

Cullen didn't know it but his words easily reached the last corner of the hall. He felt however someone nodding to his words. The invisible presence was smiling on him, content that someone was standing up to enforce peace in these halls. The reactions from the houses were quite different. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff seemed to be content, especially about the learning in peace part. The Slytherins sneered at him and apparently felt the urge to fight him on this, while the Gryffindors – being stubborn and feisty on their own – showed a wait and see attitude due to Harry's presence at his side.

"And how do you expect to enforce this?" Snape sneered; now back to his usual haughtiness, he only voiced what was on every Slytherin's mind. No, not on everyone's, he had to differentiate. He saw a few among them, mostly girls, who actually nodded to Cullen's words.

"Try me," Cullen responded calmly with a hint of threat in his voice. He would certainly not back down, especially not from this man, headmaster's trust or not – a headmaster who just looked very unhappy. _I assume he's regretting now that he ever allowed me to stay_.

Snape looked down. He was vicious and knew he was an experienced duellist. However, it was impossible to gauge this man's abilities. He certainly felt no urge to lose his magic, even if only for a few hours. So he stayed with idle sneers for now: "and who gave you the right to make this kind of demands? Who do you think you are? Who made you Hogwarts' peacekeeper?"

"I did."

.

_**A/N**_

_So Cullen sees his duty (for now) in keeping peace and doing the teachers' job. You certainly suspects who is willing to support Cullen._

_Next time: more Luna, more Harry and the start of a summer of changes._


	3. Chapter 3 A Year's End

_**A/N**_

_Who supported Cullen will be clarified in this chapter. I hope you'll like the solution (no, it's not Lady Hogwarts)._

_This chapter will concentrate on Cullen's experiences in the new world, the differences and similarities with his own. _

**.**

**A Year's End**

.

_**Hogwarts – Room of Requirements**_

.

"Do you actually need to use words?" Harry asked while they recovered from the last round of training. "I mean: you sometimes kind of only mumble them, especially when you're distracted; and your gestures with the sword are a bit lazy then too."

"You're very observant, Harry," Cullen acknowledged. Since his arrival he had taken a liking to the boy and he now understood far better how he had been able to induce such a feeling of loyalty and trust in his friends. Harry was a natural born leader – without realizing it himself.

They had spent the last three hours in this weird room, alternatively training and recovering, with Cullen switching targets as often as possible. It was exhausting, both for him and for them. He had to seriously thank them later. It couldn't be pleasant for them to get hit time after time while he learned to control his altered powers in this different world. He had to be careful while using them. That boy – Malfoy – had been knocked out cold for twelve hours. After that he needed another twenty-four hours to fully regain his magic – more or less. There had been… scars. Cullen could feel them, the scars left on Malfoy's core. They would time to heal. His wrath attack was far more serious here than back in Thedas. Instead of a blunt fist, it was like swinging a mace meant to break bones. Yes, he was thankful for the assistance of Harry and his friends. They had allowed him to use his powers on them, slowly increasing the might of the attacks, to get a feeling of how much he could use safely.

"To answer your question: no, I don't. It was more for dramatics that I used words in the Great Hall, I have to admit. Back in my world, other Templars use words to enhance their focus. It's the same with the sword gestures." Cullen tensed for a second before he, still sitting, without making a single gesture or a whispered word, hit Harry with a low-powered Smite. "See? But even for me it's easier with gestures and words. It reduces the amount of energy and concentration it requires. The same accounts for our mages, by the way. They use staves instead of your tiny wands, but only because it makes casting stronger spells easier. It enhances their range and duration, but unlike your kind they aren't helpless without them."

"There is wandless magic too," Harry responded. "And wordless magic." He sighed. "However, it's very hard to learn, it seems. Hermione can use a bit of wandless moving objects around, like calling her wand into her hand though."

"Certainly a very useful ability." Harry nodded. Cullen narrowed his eyes: "have you spoken with her, yet?"

Harry nodded again, this time accompanied by a little sigh. "I have. She…" He grinned. "She hit me… on the head."

Cullen reciprocated the grin, looking far younger this way. "Let me guess: you said something stupid." Harry grimaced. "You told her something along the line 'it was all my fault'."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You already know me too well. I hope you'll never get together with her. It would be awful, no secrets anymore." There was a hint of tension in his voice. Cullen wondered if Harry had a crush on his bushy-haired friend and feared to get competition. Cullen had visited Hermione twice, but only out of medical interest. He wanted to ascertain that his curse cleaning had worked perfectly. To his relief all had been well. A thin white scar would remain but it was nothing when compared to the ugly one the girl would have had without his intervention. Despite all their healing abilities, the mages of this world seemed to lack in this regard.

"Don't fear." Cullen responded. For a moment his eyes went to Luna who was whispering with Neville a few steps away. Harry frowned for a moment before he had his face under control again. He wasn't certain how he felt about the foreigner being interested in Luna. He was kind of old. It was like back in fourth year seeing Hermione with Viktor Krum. Luna's crush was obvious, even for him, which meant everybody would notice. _I'll keep this in mind_.

While Harry was pondering about Luna, Cullen had something completely different on his mind. These magical teenagers were completely different to the ones he had got to know back at the Circle Tower. Or were they simply how young wizards and witches happened to be without Templars around, without being told fifteen times a day how worthless they were and how dangerous? Harry was a true hero, Hermione a sage in the best way; Neville was a paragon of a steadfast friend and Luna… Luna was special in the best way, without a single bad or malicious bone in her small body. Could all young magical be like them, normal? Cullen sighed. On the other hand Lucy Malfoy and those disgusting dung heaps he called friends were proof of how dangerous mages could be. They felt superior to non-magical beings and in a way they were, especially in this world with the non-magicals completely unaware of their existence.

Everything in him yelled: _warn them_, _tell them _and _help them protect themselves_. With a single sentence he could change this world forever – change and perhaps destroy. Cullen shook his head. No, he couldn't do that. He had to give them a chance. His eyes settled down on Luna again: someone like her would simply wither away in the Circle, imprisoned and forced to never fulfil her dreams. How many Lunas had died in the Circle already?

"Alright," Cullen thundered. "Time to continue."

Neville groaned but complied. He was still a tad uneasy about meeting his grandma and telling her about his father's broken wand. This training was a good distraction – if somewhat painful.

"I want to train on something different now: using my area abilities while exempting one of you." Harry and his friends thought about it and slowly nodded. That sounded very useful. "Let's begin."

.

_**Hospital Wing **_

.

"YOU!"

Cullen whirled around from his conversation with Madam Pomfrey. Since his arrival he was visiting her once a day to get examined. He realized that she shared the results with the headmaster, something he didn't appreciate. However, he needed to know if there were any changes about him. So far nothing had happened, the results were the same as with his first scan. Now he was face to face with one of the most beautiful women he ever had the pleasure to lay his eyes on. She was in her thirties, perhaps forty with the slower aging of the mages in this world. She had the bearing and stance of a noble-woman like he had only seen at the Landthing – the gathering of nobles back home. He had visited it once, belonging to Commander Gregoire's entourage. Back then he had felt like a little clumsy boy. It was the same now.

He bowed slightly: "Milady."

This stopped her cold for a second and allowed Madam Pomfrey to introduce her. "This is Lady Narcissa Malfoy." Poppy eyed her warily. She had known Narcissa for decades and always regretted that she had been forced into that arranged marriage, prohibiting her from following her own dreams. In pureblood society it simply wasn't acceptable for a woman to work. It wasn't by accident that most successful women – like Minerva or Amelia – were single or had been searching a long time until they found a man agreeable to their plans.

"I assumed as much. I saw your picture in the Daily Prophet." He had actually seen a picture about her visiting her husband in jail. This tiny detail he hadn't to add right now, as it certainly wouldn't enhance her mood. "It certainly didn't do your beauty justice."

Poppy shook her head in amusement and Narcissa narrowed her eyes, her anger for a moment forgotten. While the words were gallant, his stance and voice made it clear that Cullen wasn't actually used to this kind of conversation. To be honest, he felt a little stupid using them and his ears turned a tad pink. It was something he had heard among the lovey-dovey mages at the Circle; they were words he had prepared to tell _her_ without ever gathering the courage to actually pronounce them. He was only able to use them now without stuttering because he wasn't actually interested in this woman. She was certainly beautiful, but in his mind it was the beauty of a queen, not of a woman. Instead his mind was running a mile a second on how to treat her, how to use this moment to his best advantage.

"This young man," Poppy gestured towards Cullen "is Cullen Stanton Rutherford, Steward of Hogwarts." Not that Narcissa needed the introduction. The daily Prophet had been full of articles about him, containing all kind of rumours about him and his background as not much was known for certain.

"A pleasure," Narcissa offered her hand and Cullen executed a hand kiss. Execute was the right term because it was his first one and accordingly awkward it turned out. However, both women were slightly amused by the attempt. In Narcissa's case, however, it didn't last long, because she remembered the reason of her stay and why she had been angry.

"Because of you my son lost his magic," she growled.

"I'll leave you alone for a moment. Try not to get too loud," Poppy said and Cullen nodded farewell.

"It was only temporary," Cullen raised his hand to stop her interjection. "He already got his magic back and he'll be fully healed before the end of the term." Which was only in three days, Cullen had learned. He continued, very serious and a bit grave. "He will be alright far sooner than I would have been, recovering from getting hit with the spell he attempted to use on me."

Narcissa paled a bit and gulped. This conversation wasn't going like she had expected. "I was told he only tried to stun you."

"That was the first time. He actually hit me with the spell before he got his second warning – he and all other participants of the fight – in the middle of the Great Hall under the eyes of the whole staff, may I add."

"Not his cleverest moment," Narcissa admitted with a low voice. Not that she was surprised. Her son had always lacked in subtlety.

"I supposed not, but he's young." Cullen shrugged. After a small sigh he continued: "his second attack was far more serious. He used a spell on me that felt very dark. I reacted instinctively if a bit harsh."

"He would never…" Narcissa hesitated. _Wouldn't he? _Lucius had taught her son many spells she didn't appreciate.

"He wasn't able to finish the incantation, but it started with Messor…"

"Messorius," Narcissa paled and felt her knees buckling. Hastily Cullen supported her, his hand under her elbow, and led her to a seat. Narcissa had to brush away a few tears and blink strongly. She knew the spell well enough, had learned it herself from her parents. Cullen was right: it was a dark spell, a vicious variant to the not actually harmless cutting curse. This spell could kill, or at the very least cripple, its target. The use of it earned the caster a three-month stay in Azkaban even if it hadn't actually caused damage to the target.

"I didn't know," she whispered, feeling anger rising again, this time directed at her husband.

Cullen watched her closely. From her first look he knew what she thought about him – a non-wizard. In a way she certainly shared those opinions about "wizards are the better humans" but he had the impression that she was a caring mother too. Perhaps here was a way to help her son before it was too late. "I know about your husband – his service to Voldemort and what he did at the Ministry."

"Lies," Narcissa growled, not very convincing. It was more out of habit. She had to defend her husband more and more these days. It got exhausting slowly.

"Please," Cullen growled back. He had stood face to face with a beyond furious Commander Gregoire; this woman had nothing on him. "This is a conversation between us. I won't tell anyone." She still had doubts in her eyes. It lasted until Cullen raised his right hand: "I swear on Andraste and the Maker that I won't tell anyone about this conversation. What we exchange here and now will stay between us."

It wasn't a wizard's oath, not even a wand oath. Narcissa had no idea who this Andraste was and if this Maker was the same God those Christians believed in, but she sensed how serious this young man was about it and slowly nodded. "I accept your word."

Cullen bowed slightly, smiling inwardly about the irony of the situation. Here he was, trying to help a mage-mother and a mage-child avoid a situation that was, in his opinion, worse than death. Using this kind of magic would lose them their souls. Due to the spells Narcissa had learned, it would already raise suspicions towards her. She would be watched very closely and, at the slightest sign of her using that kind of magic, would be made tranquil along with her son. Here was another possibility, perhaps a better one. Perhaps not; he had to try, to wait and see.

Tranquil – Cullen's mind went back to the Circle Tower, back to the inhabitants and especially those among them that were called Tranquils. It had such a nice ring, hadn't it? He's calm. He's content. He's tranquil. Their bland voices, completely devoid of any emotion sent shudders down his spine. Cullen accepted that it was a necessary solution and sometimes an appropriate punishment but it was inhuman too. To make a mage tranquil, to cut his connection to the magic around him, had been a solution to the dangers of possession through demons if the mage wasn't strong-willed enough to protect himself. However, it did far more than only turn a mage into an unmagical being: it destroyed his ability to feel. It burned out any emotion, any own will to live. Perhaps the sacrifice was too big. Perhaps there could be another solution if he found a way to teach others his new-found abilities to burn magic in others. And if he found a way back. (1)

"There will be war," Cullen deadpanned. That she accepted his oath was a good sign, wasn't it? "War between wizards of all kind, between old families and – how do call them: Muggleborns. There will be a vicious war with many victims. Wives will lose their husbands and mothers their sons on both sides."

Cullen made full use of his voice, the voice Ginny had adored on their first meeting already. He captured Narcissa's heart with his voice and she had to fight back tears as her mind imagined pictures of those victims, asking who would die in this war. He was right, she knew. There would be war. People would die. She had accepted months ago that Lucius wouldn't survive this time. The Dark Lord was even more vicious than last time, less patient and far easier to anger. She struggled hard to suppress a sob, thinking about losing her Drakey too.

"I've seen your husband at the Ministry." Narcissa looked up from her terrible thoughts. "He had a dark aura around him. He used a large amount of dark magic in his life and he has this," he gestured towards his arm "this mark that binds him to his master."

Narcissa paled. How could he know?

"You don't have the same: no mark and your aura – while showing you learned spells you shouldn't have – proves that you don't use them, at least not regularly."

_He is right_, Narcissa shuddered. She hadn't taken the mark so far. The Dark Lord hadn't forced her to take it so far, simply because he underestimated her abilities – which were, to be honest, not nearly on par with those of her sister Bellatrix.

Cullen gestured towards Draco: "he doesn't have the mark either." Narcissa flinched for a second as she thought about the Dark Lord's plans. He had been incredible furious about Lucius' failure and had been pondering about ways to punish the Malfoy family. One of the ideas had been to force Draco to take the Mark right now, right this summer. Bella had told her, not actually realizing the harm it could do, seeing only the honour about receiving it.

Cullen's voice turned softer: "he shouldn't follow in his father's footsteps. I've spoken with him. Draco isn't evil. He is a spoilt brat without manners and far too eager to hurt others with words. But he's not vicious. I'm certain that after hitting me with that spell, he would have been the first one to puke on his shoes. He is only a frightened boy trying to please his father. The path of the killer is the wrong choice, Lady Narcissa. To become one to please his father is even worse. You'll regret for the rest of your life allowing it to happen. It will break him."

Narcissa was completely silent for a long time. Poppy came and left again after a short sign from Cullen. He watched her the whole time, his patience being trained by endless night vigilances. He fetched her a glass of water and she thankfully accepted it, trusting that he hadn't added any potion or poison. Only then did she speak again, her voice laced with concern and despair.

"I don't know how to protect him."

"It wouldn't be easy. You would certainly be forced to leave many things behind. You would lose most of your friends, I assume. It's your choice, what is more important to you: your life or his life."

Her look towards her son made it obvious how she would choose – not now but perhaps later, hopefully not too late.

"I don't know where to go," she whispered.

"Hogwarts will always protect you."

Narcissa flinched. "The Headmaster would certainly demand…"

"This has nothing to do with the headmaster. This is between you, me and Lady Hogwarts. Think about it and when you're ready, Hogwarts will be awaiting you."

.

_**Interlude – a dream**_

.

"_Who made you Hogwarts peacekeeper?"_

"_I did."_

_The voice was calm but somehow dominating the Great Hall like no voice should have been able to. The speaker was a house-elf, older than any the students had ever seen. Her skin was wrinkled but her eyes betrayed a sharp intelligence. More than one student hastily glanced towards the staff table and back to compare this apparition with Professor McGonagall. A dozen more house-elves had arrived with her, the two standing at her side armed with a frying pan and a long kitchen knife. The sight would have been funny without their deadly serious faces. House-elves shouldn't be allowed to look this serious and threatening._

_The bearing of Professor Snape instantly changed. His face softened and his lips cracked into a smile – if anybody would believe Snape was physically able to smile. "Matron Mathilda," he greeted with a bow. _

"_Hello Sevvy," the wrinkled face softened a little bit._

"_Don't call me that," Snape scowled, glaring at the students who dared to snicker._

"_Fiddlesticks," Matron Mathilda waved him of. "I called you Sevvy twenty years ago and I won't start changing it now."_

_Snape's scowl deepened but he knew better than to squabble about it. In truth he respected her more than most wizards. She had been one of the few inhabitants of Hogwarts who had actually tried to help him in his youth. In the end, it hadn't been enough but he appreciated the gesture. And, contrary to most others – even Lily – she hadn't turned her back on him after his stupid decision. He wasn't a nice man and certainly hadn't many good sides, but Mathilda was able to see them._

_Matron Mathilda turned around and took a long look at the young man in front of her: "you've been the one scaring poor Winky."_

"_I'm still sorry about that, Matron Mathilda," Cullen bowed. "I've never seen elves like you before, so I was a bit… surprised." He gestured towards Luna who was watching the whole scene with a dreamy smile. "Miss Lovegood already explained me your duties at Hogwarts. It is very honourable work."_

"_Ah, Miss Lovegood," Mathilda waved to her and got a wave in return, prompting some snickers and looney calls, which caused Cullen to glare towards the Ravenclaw table. The concerned students shrank back. They did it even more as he snarled: "Miss Lovegood risked her life to save mine a few days ago. She's therefore under my protection."_

"_And under that of the house-elves of Hogwarts," Mathilda calmly added, causing more than a bit of concern among students and teachers. House-elves rarely took sides and nobody in his right mind wanted to be on their bad side. A lot calmer Mathilda stated: "You're already forgiven, Cullen Stanton Rutherford, Steward of Hogwarts."_

_Cullen narrowed his eyes. Steward of Hogwarts? "Matron Mathilda…"_

_To his disgust and Mathilda's annoyance they were interrupted by none other then Headmaster Albus too-many-names Dumbledore. "Matron Mathilda, there isn't such a position as a Steward of Hogwarts."_

"_You are wrong there, Headmaster," Mathilda snarled back. Cullen watched the exchange with a tiny grin. He liked her; he liked even more that she wasn't happy with the headmaster. He even had an idea about the reasons, especially after a few talks with Harry and his friends. "After the founding of Hogwarts, the four founders saw to it that the school turned into a secure haven of living and learning for the students of Great Britain, as Steward Cullen stated quite correctly. To ascertain this, they created a small force of defenders under the command of the Steward of Hogwarts. For hundreds of years they served and protected Hogwarts and were only disbanded in the seventeenth century when a former Headmaster tried to abuse them to strong-arm him into the position of Minister of Magic."_

"_Alright," Headmaster Dumbledore admitted with his grandfather face, not impressing Mathilda one bit. "Perhaps there has been a Steward in the past. Today however, it is the headmaster's job to secure safety at Hogwarts and…"_

"_Something at which you failed miserably," Mathilda cut him short. "Five years ago you allowed a troll to enter Hogwarts. It is only because of young Misters Potter and Weasley that Miss Granger didn't die. You used a Cerberus to guard an object that had no reason to be here in the first place."_

"_I only did a favour to a close friend," Dumbledore tried to placate her. "It was completely safe."_

_Mathilda only glared and didn't honour this nonsense with a response. "Four years ago a Basilisk was on the loose for months, endangering many students. It was poor dumb luck that they were 'only' petrified. Why did it have to be a student solving that riddle instead of a teacher ? Why did it have to be another student killing that beast in the stead of the "responsible" adults?"_

"_It was complicated," Albus fidgeted. "Perhaps we should continue this conversation…"_

"_Right here and now." Can a house-elf actually growl? More than one student wondered. This one obviously could. "Three years ago, Dementors were stationed around Hogwarts… Dementors… have you been completely out of your mind?" Mathilda actually screeched now, prompting Dumbledore to shrink back as the students had done from Cullen's glare._

"_Apparently it's worse than I thought," Cullen muttered, loud enough to be heard by Mathilda._

"_You have no idea." Mathilda narrowed her eyes: "I don't have to say anything about the tournament, do I? Setting students against dragons and other dangerous creatures, putting students into magical sleep and putting them under water as a task – without getting their consent or that of their parents," the last words were bellowed, an impressive task regarding the small chest of the tiny house-elf. "And this year…" Mathilda sneered and more than one onlooker wondered if Snape had gotten lessons from her in sneering. "You didn't stop this Ministry bitch from threatening students and teachers alike."_

"_That's not my fault," Albus interjected, struggling to regain a modicum of control of this conversation. "The Ministry…"_

"_The Headmaster isn't currently leading this school," Mathilda screeched. "It's however your duty and if you're not able to do that anymore, perhaps it's time for a new headmaster." Albus looked a bit ill now. Everybody watched as the old matron walked towards the Gryffindor table. "Give me your hand," she ordered young Colin Creevey. Hesitantly he complied and flinched as Mathilda showed his hand around, a flick of her magic allowing everybody to see the scars from the blood quill. "This is your work, Headmaster. You allowed bullies," she glared towards the Slytherin table and even pureblood arrogance didn't help overcome the burst of natural fear her angry eyes caused "to rampage through the school. You allowed bullying," she glanced towards Luna and a few others "mocking and insulting, especially towards Muggleborn, to be tolerated."_

"_I can't be everywhere, Mathilda," Albus again tried to placate the irate house-elf, again to no avail. _

_This time she showed her sweetest smile. "I know, headmaster. That's the reason we want to help you." Turning deathly serious again she continued: "for years we've waited for someone able and willing to change things. We think Cullen is the right man for the job. Because of this," she snapped her fingers and a small package appeared in her hands, some kind of cloth apparently "we offer you the position of Hogwarts' Steward. Do you accept?"_

.

_**Hogwarts Express**_

Something roused Cullen from his slumber. He needed a few moments to actually leave the dream behind – a memory actually. Cullen had only known Mathilda for a few days but he already adored her for her strength of character and her dedication to the school and its inhabitants. While he trusted Professor Flitwick, Madam Sprout and Madam Pomfrey, it was only Mathilda whom he believed to always stay on the students' side, even against the Headmaster. Dumbledore had tried to stop her from bestowing this new-old position for a long time, declared that she didn't have the right. It only ended when Matron Mathilda, obviously getting annoyed with his resistance, growled "try me."

So, he was Steward of Hogwarts now. Cullen glanced down to the book in his lap he had been reading before falling asleep. It belonged to a number of books he got from Mathilda before his departure. He was accompanying the students on their way back, wearing some really strange clothes – Muggle clothes, Hermione had explained. Even she didn't know about the scabbard he wore on his left forearm. It looked like a sheath for a dagger. The content however was his usual sword, only enchanted by Mathilda herself to shrink and enlarge on command. Harry had told him about Lucius Malfoy and his cane – that according to rumours contained an epee. Swords however weren't in use anymore, especially among Muggles and he intended to spend some time among them.

Someone chuckled and Cullen looked up to see six pairs of eyes watching him with amusement. Ginny had enlarged the compartment to allow him to sit with them and for Hermione to lie down. Poppy had demanded that she took it easy for a while before allowing Hermione to leave the school. Cullen was still a tad uncertain about this incidental use of magic but it had its uses, he had to admit.

"You looked cute, drooling on your book," Harry mocked.

"I don't drool," Cullen glared.

"You do," Luna voiced. "But you're cute."

Cullen blushed but didn't deny it anymore. Luckily Hermione changed the topic. "You know, I would kill for the chance to lay my hands on those books?"

She had uttered something along that line before and it spoke volumes of her bibliophile side. Apparently these books – books about the history of Hogwarts and traditions in times long past – weren't even possible to find in the restricted area of the library anymore. After the dissolving of the "Hogwarts Defenders" the house-elves had stored them away – against the wishes of the new headmaster back then who wanted them destroyed, erasing any memories of that part of Hogwarts' history.

"I'm certain you'll get them some day," she smiled for a moment "as soon as you change your behaviour." Hermione blinked, her friends frowned. "They aren't happy with you right now, you know?"

"But why?" Hermione whined. A look into the faces of Harry and Neville told Cullen that they knew.

"Ask your friends. It's their duty to tell you the truth, even if it hurts." He didn't want to hurt her, but she had to know. She wanted to help, but her actions of the past had alienated the house-elves.

Hermione looked around and noticed, like Cullen, that Harry and Neville were hiding something from her. "Tell me…" She demanded hoarsely.

.

"That was nice," Luna said, shortly pressing his hand. She didn't let go and Cullen didn't object.

"Then why do I feel like an insensitive ass?"

Luna actually giggled. "It will help her. She'll find another way to help them, this time a better way."

Hermione was sleeping again, feeling exhausted after her heated discussion with Harry and Neville. After Harry had explained the affair with the hats and socks for the house-elves – how only Dobby had dared to visit the tower anymore because the rest feared her over eagerness – Neville had spoken about the bond between house-elves and magical families, how they needed the bond to survive, how much they liked to serve because it made them happy too. It was something a well-meaning Muggleborn couldn't know.

"The house-elves of Hogwarts are happy, Hermione. They served the castle for hundreds of years. There are others serving bad families, but house-elves don't want to be free, they want caring families at most. Dobby was an exception and even he bounded with Harry as soon as possible." Harry had flinched under Hermione's glare but confirmed the statement.

"It is wonderful that you want to help them, Hermione," Cullen had declared to lighten her mood as the girl was obviously depressed. "I hope you continue to better the lives of all humans, beings and creatures. Your friends will certainly support you." The others eagerly nodded, Ron only after Ginny kicked his shin. He had returned from St. Mungo's two days before and apparently wasn't certain what to think about the strange man. "However, you first have to learn about them, speak with them, and read some books to learn how to do it the right way."

"Wonderful," Ron rolled his eyes "someone actually encouraging Hermione's book mania."

That Hermione threw her pillow in his direction showed that Cullen had been successful in his endeavour. "Perhaps you should speak with Winky," Cullen suggested. "Harry told me how unhappy she was after her former master gave her clothes. She's far better now since Luna bonding with her." Hermione shortly glared at her blond friend – which Luna patiently ignored – before she sighed: "perhaps you're right."

.

_**Platform nine and three quarters**_

.

"Where will you stay, Cullen?" Neville asked as the group trotted down the platform. They had left Ginny and Ron with the twins and their parents, after they greeted them and Cullen got to know them. He especially had an eye on the twins – certainly appropriate after Harry's stories about their pranks. The short meeting went smoothly as both twins seemed to be somewhat frightened by his presence or at least unnerved.

"Steward Cullen will stay with us, Neville." Neville whirled around and stared wide-eyed at the imposing figure of Augusta Longbottom. "Hello grandma," he gulped. "You already know each other?"

"I met him as a member of the board of governors," she explained. "Greetings, Steward Cullen."

"Greetings, Lady Augusta. Thank you again for your hospitality." He gestured towards a young woman waiting a few steps apart. She had blonde hairs today instead of her usual lime green or violet and wore Muggle clothes. "I have some errands to do first. Auror Tonks will accompany me." Cullen had only seen a picture of her until now, but Sirius had told him that he completely trusted her. Needing someone to take him around in this strange world, this was enough for now.

"I understand. Neville and I have an errand to do as well – we have a wand to buy."

Neville gulped. "You know about… ?"

"I told your Lady Augusta about the fight and mentioned the broken wand." Neville's tension lessened a bit. He had been afraid to tell her about this. Her knowing already would make it easier – he hoped.

"Steward Cullen told me how you defended Miss Granger while she was unconscious. Your father would have been proud of you." She curtly nodded towards Cullen and departed. Neville certainly walked taller than before as he followed her down the platform.

.

If Cullen noticed the stares, he didn't show. There had been enough rumours and articles about him to assure an enhanced interest in the weird man wearing Muggle clothes. More than one family was whispering about him as he accompanied Harry and Hermione down the platform. Hermione felt Harry tense as her parents came in view. "It wasn't your fault, Harry. They will understand."

He smiled bravely, not completely convinced, and watched how Hermione enthusiastically greeted her parents. She must have flinched a bit because of her wound, but Cullen stopped any questions. "I'm Cullen Rutherford, Steward of Hogwarts. If you are agreeable, I'll accompany you to your home and explain everything. I'll have to examine Hermione's injury and tell you how to treat it this summer in any case."

The Grangers accepted, her father's look clearly telling that he wanted answers. Hermione fidgeted a bit and hastily hugged Harry farewell, before following the adults.

_When will I see you again?_ Harry wondered, before he turned around with a sigh and left the platform to have a look for his dear uncle Vernon. _What a wonderful summer this will be_, he groaned silently. _Can't wait to see my prison again_.

.

_**House Granger**_

.

"I can't believe it."

Benjamin Granger was sitting in his small study together with Cullen and a half empty bottle of Single malt. They had been there for hours, his anger rising higher and higher as he watched Cullen examine the long scar on his daughter's chest. It didn't help that Hermione explained that it was far better now. Ben was thankful that this young man had been able to mostly prevent an ugly scar but was still furious that his daughter had been in a fight at all.

"Yeah, too bad that your daughter is brave and loyal, isn't it," Cullen mocked lightly. "A selfish coward certainly would make things easier for her parents."

Ben glared but got the message. "So this Harry…"

"I don't know," Cullen sighed, sensing the real question. "They feel at least like siblings towards each other, perhaps more. Whatever you decide: don't make her chose between him and you. It may be that you wouldn't like the result."

"Blasted," Ben put his glass down with a tad too much force and filled it again.

"She's happy there," Cullen explained, continuing despite Ben's frown. "Magic is an important side of her, something you can't take away. I understand the difficulty, I really do. In my home country I more than once had to take a magical child away from his or her family as we don't allow mages to live freely. It's different here, perhaps better." It was one of the things Cullen had spent hours thinking about. If he ever got home, he wasn't certain that he could accept things as they were in Thedas anymore. "But far more importantly: she'll be in danger simply because she is a talented Muggleborn. She is everything the old families hate and fear. Most of all however, she'll never betray her friendship to Harry and the others."

"I know," Ben groaned. "She got that from her mother." He rolled his eyes but actually smiled. "It's something I loved about her from the first day I met her."

"She needs your support and unconditional love. Hermione fears that you'll take her away from her new life. She could use someone to speak about everything. It's not healthy to bottle this up. I won't trivialise this: Hermione nearly died there. She'll have nightmares this summer, I'm sure. But it won't stop her. Help her as much as you can. Speak with Harry, your ears and mind wide open. He's a wonderful boy and he cares much about her."

"How much?" Ben growled.

Cullen grinned. "I wouldn't be surprised to get an invitation to their wedding one day. But that's only a speculation. They're too much dancing around each other right now for them to realize that." His grin deepened: "don't hurt him too much at your first meeting."

"I'll try but I can't promise anything."

.

"Can this house be protected? Like Hogwarts I mean?"

They had left the manor and intended to make their next visit, as Cullen had stopped Tonks to ponder about something. He looked around, allowed his senses to feel around. This house felt… good. Hermione and her parents would need a while to agree to disagree about Hogwarts and everything, but Cullen had no doubt that they would find a way in the end.

Tonks shrugged. "Not as well as Hogwarts. Hogwarts has been warded for centuries by some of the mightiest wizards and witches alive. The magic of its students is empowering and strengthening the wards even today. However, there are so-called curse-breakers at Gringotts. They should be able put some wards on this house."

Cullen nodded deep in thoughts. "Why wasn't it done already? Hermione has been one of Harry's best friend for years and those Death Eaters have been after Harry even longer. It makes sense that they could try to harm both through an attack on this house, don't you think?"

Tonks nodded slowly. "I agree. We should ask Sirius about it."

"Alright, let's go."

.

_**Grimmault Place**_

.

"You know, Harry asked me the same thing after Voldemort's return one year ago. He was worried that Voldy would go after Hermione and her family, wanted to protect her."

Cullen waved him off, as Sirius offered a glass of Firewhiskey. He still felt a bit light-headed because of Ben Granger's single malt. The three of them were sitting together in Sirius' salon, with two other members of the Black family. Andromeda Tonks reminded him very much of her crazy sister, at least physically, and Cullen actually went for his sword as he first saw her. However, a few minutes together were all he needed to realize how different they were. Andy Tonks was nothing like her older sister. She had been deeply moved as he told her about Narcissa's visit and her younger sister's inner struggle. "I'll help her if I can," she had promised.

The last occupant of the salon was one Marius Black. Sirius had explained how Marius Black the older, the grandfather of this young man and Sirius Great-uncle, had been expulsed from the family because he was a squib, disowned for being a dishonour to the proud House of Black. It reminded him far too much of what happened to magical children in Thedas not to be moved by the story. One reason of their presence was Sirius' determination to get them back into the folds of the Black family. As Head of the house, Sirius could do this – as soon as his little legal problems were solved.

Cullen leaned back in his seat. He didn't feel comfortable in this room – or this house. It was creepy and too much like his last hours in the Circle tower. While the Granger home spoke of love, good dreams and hope, this house felt wrong, completely wrong. He was certain that more than one murder had happened here. The nights were certainly filled with nightmares and he wouldn't be surprised if ghosts haunted its corridors. While the layer separating this world and the Fade had been calm and strong at Granger manor, here it was restless and stretched to breaking point. The darkness was overwhelming. It was everywhere and dripped into the souls of its inhabitants. The differences between the auras of four Black family members were disturbing and least partially caused by this house, Cullen was certain.

Marius was a pure soul. There was not a hint of dark magic about his aura. Tonks and her mother were similar to Narcissa, if on a lower scale. Cullen assumed that Andromeda had, like her sister, learned dark magic from her parents but never used it. Tonks certainly had been forced to learn things in her job she never wanted to see. His own aura was like hers, white but with speckles of experience. Sirius Black however was dripping with dark magic. It was nearly as bad as Professor Snape – without the Dark mark – however it dripped in a different direction mostly. He certainly, like Andromeda and Narcissa, had learned dark magic in his youth. Like Tonks he had experienced even worse growing up and living the life of a warrior. What truly disturbed however, was the amount of darkness that slowly encroached his heart and soul now. Cullen had heard about Sirius' time in Azkaban. It had to be as bad as Aeonar and after that time he should be living somewhere else. Certainly not in this manor, this gathering point of dark emotions.

Cullen sighed. "And why…"

"Apparently there are legal issues."

Cullen groaned. He heard that excuse far too often from Gregoire and Irving in the past. "Let me guess: Dumbledore."

Sirius nodded gravely, while Tonks looked up. She belonged to the Order – like Sirius. Unlike Sirius she adored the Headmaster very much, perhaps too much even. Until the events at the Ministry and the words of Matron Mathilda about his wrongdoings, she would never have believed Albus could do anything wrong. Now she was more cautious, still struggling to process the news. "Her parents are Muggles. Apparently there is a law about Muggles houses that prohibits warding them. The same applies to underage Muggleborn."

"So, the Grangers can't even sign over the house to their daughter?" Tonks asked, glancing towards Cullen who was browsing a book he pulled from his back.

"No, they can't."

Cullen seemed to be content about his finding as he looked up. "What about their magical guardian?"

Sirius frowned. "I don't know. Do they have one?"

Cullen pointed towards the pertaining paragraph. Sirius frown deepened: "Minnie is their magical guardian?"

"I remember," Tonks nodded. "Madam Sprout was magical guardian for the Muggleborn of our house … if they didn't have one," she added after a moment deep in thoughts.

"Minnie could have done this. She could have allowed Gringotts to ward the Grangers' house. Albus must have known… the old bastard."

"Why should he…" Tonks started, uncertain if she really wanted to know.

"More interesting," Cullen interjected "is the question: what do we do now?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"Andromeda," Cullen deadpanned.

"Sorry, Cullen," Andromeda smiled, her expression telling the other Black that she was a tad mischievous right now. "I'm not interested and you're too young."

Cullen blushed deeply, to the endless amusement of Sirius and Andromeda. He was so mature about most things but still so naïve in others. It was truly refreshing.

After a healthy amount of chuckles, Sirius continued the conversation. "What about Andromeda?"

Cullen coughed and avoided to look in Andromeda's direction. "The Grangers need a magical guardian, one without connections to the Ministry or Hogwarts. Tonks has connections to both, Marius… sorry but I had the impression that Squibs face some legal problems as well."

Marius nodded. "I can't be a magical guardian."

Cullen continued: "Sirius has his very own legal problems. Harry told me about that Pettigrew." He stopped shortly as he noticed Sirius' deep growl. "Until we catch him, you can neither invite the others" he made a roundabout gesture, "back into your family nor be a magical guardian."

"This leaves Andromeda," Sirius agreed.

"It would solve her ward problems, but isn't that a bit too much?" Andromeda frowned. "I would do it, I heard so many good things about her, but…"

"It would be helpful in other matters as well," Cullen explained. "Her parents weren't informed when Hermione got petrified in her second years." The story had enraged Cullen on a whole new level. Luckily he had been a dozen floors apart from the Headmaster when Mathilda explained the details. "The headmaster never asked her parents if they allowed her to be taken as a hostage during the second task. He did nothing when Muggleborns were tortured with blood quills this year. Most of those things could have been prevented with a magical guardian."

Andromeda agreed whole-heartedly. She had heard rumours about those events, but until now hadn't been certain if they were true or greatly exaggerated.

"Last but not least: she could really use your help." Cullen smiled softly. "Miss Granger is a wonderful young woman with wonderful dreams. However, she lacks knowledge of the magical world. She could use a… a mentor, a female friend experienced in this world. Else will she fail hopelessly. Tell her about this world, explain to her the inner workings and the magic behind, things like that magical bond between house-elves and wizards, things she needs to know to survive and prosper in this world. Help her turn into the kind of woman she could become."

.

Cullen was content so far. Andromeda had given her consent to the plan. Tomorrow she would visit the Grangers and arrange everything. Tonks had agreed to accompany Cullen to the Dursleys in a few days. Now he only had one other problem on his mind. He didn't know that Sirius would offer him a solution right now.

"When you entered this world, Cullen, your arrival had a very special side effect: you saved my life."

Cullen frowned and wanted to interrupt but Sirius continued. "I would have died going through the Veil of Death, I'm certain. Your timely arrival prevented that. You put yourself in danger, stepping into the middle of a fight, if unknowingly."

"You're welcome," Cullen tried to lighten the mood as he didn't want to get thanks for something he never intended to do. To be honest, he mostly wanted to forget the experience of staying in the Fade for weeks.

"You don't understand;" Sirius sighed. "My magic… it accepted that you saved my life while endangering yours. Irrespective of what you feel and think about it, my magic is certain: I owe you a life debt."

"That's the other reason we're here today, Cullen," Andromeda added softly. "A wizard is able to feel such a debt. It's like a deep seated urge to protect you, to obey you. It will continue until the debt has been settled."

Cullen opened and closed his mouth a few times. He had never heard of something like this. Was it the same with the mages on Thedas? He had heard about a few very close and trusting friendships between mages and Templars. Until now he had assumed it was simply coincidence but perhaps a life debt had been in play there too, at least for some of them. "And how do we solve this little problem? Do you want to hang around until you have a chance to save me?"

Sirius grinned: "possible but not too simple, not with me bound to this house." Cullen looked very thoughtful. "What?" Sirius asked.

"What could I ask in return?" Cullen asked slyly. "What are the limits?"

"More or less anything," Sirius shrugged, uncertain where this was going. "Money, an oath of alliance," he grinned mischievously "the hand of Tonks."

"You could certainly try," Tonks growled under the chuckles of Andy and Sirius. Cullen looked at her like actually pondering the idea. "Nah, don't think so," he rejected the offer in the end.

"What do you mean… nah?" Tonks watched him through narrowed eyes. Only Sirius saw the similarity to her mother's humour. "Don't you fancy me?"

"It's not…" Cullen fidgeted on his seat. "You're bad, all of you." For a while he pouted with everybody mocking him. In the end he stopped them with his surprising demand: "this house. I want this house."

"This house?" Sirius' eyes widened funnily. "What do you want with this disgusting peace of shit?"

"So you don't love your parents' home?" Cullen grinned. This got easier than expected: "no sweet memories?"

"Merlin, no. But still: what do you want to do with it? Live in it?"

"Andraste, no." Cullen got serious again. "Tear it down, I want to tear it down… completely. I want to cleanse the area of the dark magic lingering here. I want to salt the earth and annihilate the last hint of it. And I want you out of this house." His voice turning softer he tried to explain: "this house is full of dark magic, Sirius. I can feel several concentrations of it and the whole aura is disturbing. I'm certain you have nightmares almost every night." A single glance in Sirius' eyes told him he was right. "This house is destroying your soul. It is corrupting your mind and heart. How many of your family members died young or got mad while living here?"

"Many, far too many," Sirius admitted. His father had died fifty years before his time and his mother…

"It's, at least in part, due to this house. You should never have been forced to live here again. This house is unnatural and shouldn't be allowed to exist. Allow me to cleanse this place. Leave this house and allow your soul to heal, and your life debt will be settled."

.

_**A/N**_

_Next time: visit the Dursleys and a Horcrux or two. _

_(1) Tranquil is the word used for the magical lobotomy used in Cullen's home._


	4. Chapter 4 A Stone in a Pond

_**A/N**_

_In this story Dumbledore won't be evil but simply following his „I know best" policy"; and he doesn't like others to make decisions without his input. He would actually approve Cullen becoming Steward of Hogwarts, if it had been his idea from the start – and should Cullen would be more obedient._

_A little explanation about the chapters of this story: They'll mostly describe "highlights" of the events. I don't intend to fully describe every scene, or every conversation. I expect the readers to at least have a smattering knowledge of the HP books, so that it will be enough to mention an event of the past. A few scenes are intentionally very sketchy, leaving the details to your imagination. All in all I wanted to keep this story short (something between 10-15 chapters with a total of 100k words)._

.

**A Stone in a Pond**

.

_**Malfoy Manor**_

.

"What do you mean: nothing?"

Peter Pettigrew cowered under his master's wrathful glare and even tried to hide behind Professor Snape's robes, which only prompted the potions master to take a step aside and look at him with no small amount of disgust.

"As I told you, Master," the rat-like man whined. "There is no information about him. The DMLE has nothing and the residents' office only mentions Hogwarts as his current residence. There is no document about any kind of graduation from anywhere. My contacts at the Muggle Police are still working but so far found equally nothing."

"What about the Department of Mysteries? He used their veil; they certainly know something or are at least investigating the case." It was sickening to watch the coward crawling on the ground. He truly was useless.

"The Department?" Pettigrew looked very ill. "It's dangerous to go there, especially after the lost battle." His eyes widened as he realized that this was the wrong thing to mention. His master had been there too, unaware of what was happening in the next room. Voldemort had been forced to flee by Dumbledore and Potter. It was nothing he liked to think about. Gulping Pettigrew tried to placate his irate master: "I'll go there and investigate right away." Luckily he had a large amount of Polyjuice and quite a number of hairs for using them. _Croaker_, he thought as he hastened away, happy to be out of his master's sight. _I'll go there as Croaker_.

Snape, who had been waiting for his dark master to address him, watched Pettigrew leave. With him entering the Ministry, it would be a chance to catch the vermin, taking away one source of intelligence from his master. However, three things stopped this from happening: how could the knowledge about Pettigrew's whereabouts be explained? Albus hadn't liked the idea of catching Pettigrew in the past, the reasons unknown even to Snape. And it would free Sirius, a man he still hated. No, Snape sighed, Pettigrew would enter and leave the Ministry unscathed.

"Tell me, Severus," Voldemort's voice was smoother now but certainly not a tad less dangerous. "What does dear Albus know about him?"

"Not much so far, Milord," Severus bowed. "He appears to be a Squib, at least according to Madam Pomfrey's examination. His magical core measures at 28, not nearly enough to cast any spells."

Voldemort nodded slowly. Like Snape he knew that scale. Wizards needed a core around 40 to be able to use at least some spells. Most schools had an admission requirement of 50 to 70, with Hogwarts' 65 in the upper range. Graduates normally had cores around 100 to 120, with some up to 150 and more. Everyone between ten and forty counted as a "Squib".

"He has no idea of our world or our magical society. Apparently he has a basic knowledge of potions and magical theory, but nothing more. Some of his ideas are weird at best. He often speaks about auras and dark magic, like he's able to sense them. Apart from the incident with Draco, he hasn't shown any special abilities."

Voldemort glanced towards Draco, who was waiting for his turn, doing his best not to clinch to his mother's arm for support. Even a blind man would notice his fear; his smell betrayed him.

"What about the rumours of him being Hogwarts' Steward?"

"They are true," Snape had a hint of smile of his lips. "Albus wasn't happy about it. It certainly wasn't his idea. What this position actually entails and what powers it encompasses, we have to wait and see."

"Where is he now?"

"He left Hogwarts with the express. As far as I know he'll stay at… at that place for the summer break."

Voldemort nodded again. He knew about the Order's HQ, and that it was hidden under a Fidelius, making it impossible to find – for now. "Keep me up to date, Severus."

"Certainly, Milord," he bowed deeply and left, equally happy as Pettigrew but better able to hide it. What were his dark master's intentions concerning the foreigner? Use him or kill him? Only time would tell.

"And now, young Draco, tell me everything about the incident in the Great Hall."

.

_**Black Manor**_

.

"So, you've met the Weasleys already?"

Sirius asked, feeling somewhat bored following Cullen around the house. He had readily agreed to deliver the house into the young man's hands and for a while actually felt quite giddy about the prospect of not only leaving it forever but to also see it destroyed for good. The ugly troll foot umbrella rack, the creepy gallery of house-elf heads, the dark corridors and magic-infested corners; he wouldn't miss anything of them. Especially not the painting of his mother, Sirius grinned wickedly. Kreacher nearly had an apoplexy when Cullen used his abilities to dissolve the magic binding the painting to the wall. That the whole painting had been destroyed in the process was certainly only an unhappy coincidence. The library he wanted to keep, a few small mementos, especially of his father and brother, and the family tapestry if possible. But the rest, to hell with it.

"Yes," Cullen nodded absent-mindedly, while further examining the contents of an old trunk. He had already destroyed a boggart – under the wide eyes of Sirius who hadn't thought that to be even possible – and a number of dangerous artefacts. That they had been lying around, more or less in the open and within reach of the teenagers, was only another proof of Sirius Black's sad condition and Dumbledore's carelessness. "Ginny and Ron were among the friends accompanying Harry on his way back from school and at the platform I met their parents and the twins." The experience of the train ride still troubled him but he certainly wouldn't show it now. It was no secret that these mages thought of him as a relict – something that amused Harry and Hermione to no end, knowing how far behind the magical society was when compared to Muggle technology.

"The twins?" Sirius grinned broadly. "I like them, they're a lot like Remus and I in our youth."

"That bad?" Cullen deadpanned, unimpressed by Sirius glare. "Harry told me some stories."

"Chatterbox," Sirius grumbled. "They have a joke shop in Diagon Alley now, founded it with Harry's help." He chuckled. "They're one of a kind. And not even their mother can distinguish between them. Thinking about it, only Hermione ever could – and their girlfriends luckily."

Cullen frowned. He found it easy to keep them apart. Their magical cores felt different. Apparently his ability to see auras wasn't widespread around here. He had always been good at that and since his time in the Fade the ability had been enhanced. Now he was able to recognize somebody even eyes closed. "Let's go have a look at the rooms on the next floor."

.

"They agreed," Andromeda Tonks told them an hour later. "The Grangers want to meet Cullen before making it official, but they agreed to make me their magical guardian." She glanced towards Cullen: "her father seems to put some trust in your opinion. Gringotts is informed too and they'll prepare everything. I told them to take the money from your vault, Sirius."

Sirius mock groaned. "And how do you think I'll pay my next meal? Not to speak of Mooney's chocolate bill."

"Stop whining," Andromeda scolded him without pity. "You've got more than enough."

"So, everything is arranged," Sirius relaxed. Andromeda was right. She wasn't too poor herself, but Sirius inherited the bulk of the Black family wealth. "Now I only have to find a place to stay." He frowned shortly. "Albus won't be happy."

Cullen shrugged. "You were helpless… The big bad Templar forced you to leave your beloved house."

"What an ass," Sirius sighed.

"All Templars are," Cullen grinned. "Ask the Mages."

Sirius and Andromeda got more serious as they followed Cullen from room to room. He was obviously searching for something. What it was he didn't tell.

"So bad, Cullen?" Andromeda asked. "I mean the contact between mages and Templars."

"Yes," Cullen sighed. "The mages hate the Templars and the Templars hate, despise and fear the mages – mostly at least. You have to understand that our mages are far more dangerous to their environment than the wizards here, irrespective of their character. They draw magic from a place called the Fade. It is a place which non-magical humans only visit in their dreams. Regretfully it is the place too where demons live."

"Demons? Real demons?" Sirius asked flabbergasted.

"Are there unreal one? As far as I understand it, there are ghosts and demons. Ghosts represent virtues. They are often benevolent but still inhuman, mostly unable to understand human feelings and morals. You remember that "Greater Good" nonsense Albus speaks about in every second sentence?"

Both nodded uneasily.

"It's the same with ghosts of justice, par example. I once heard about a ghost of compassion who wandered around, altering the minds of people who felt pain because of some loss or similar things. He didn't ask, he didn't explain, he simply took memories away. He meant well but it still wasn't his right to do that." His audience nodded gravely. That sounded very much like something Albus would do.

"Demons, however, represent negative virtues like gluttony, hate or pride. They try to seduce mages, promise power, knowledge or other things their victims ask for in exchange for their soul and the freedom to roam our world." For a moment there was open concern and pity in Cullen's eyes. "Because of the possibility of betrayal, the Templars imprison mages. We don't allow them a normal life. They can't have families and if a female mage gets pregnant, the child is taken away immediately after birth. This leads only to more hate on the part of the mages. It is an endless spiral of hate and fear."

"I assume this often leads to fights between Mages and Templars."

"It does," Cullen admitted. "One of those fights led me here."

Feeling the urge to forget about that part of his past, Cullen jerkily opened the next door. Only now did Sirius realize that it was Regulus' room, the room of his late little brother. He had only visited it once and never returned. It had been too hurtful. "Perhaps we could…"

Andromeda raised a hand to stop him. She watched Cullen closely who had suddenly stopped to move and stared at something. "Cullen?" Nothing. "Cullen?" She shook his arm.

Instead of turning around, Cullen pointed at something and asked; his voice hoarse: "what in Andraste's name is this?"

.

_**Memory or dream?**_

.

"_Please, please don't kill me, Cullen."_

_She pleaded, grovelling on her stomach. He hated to see her like this. Her face was the same as it had been before, however the signs were unmistakable: tiny horns protruding from her hair, the goat feet and the flicking tail. Cullen frowned. Something was wrong. Were these the signs of a Succubus or of a Christian devil? _

"_Kill her, Cullen. Do your duty." The strong and determined voice of Knight-Commander Gregoire broke through the fog filling his mind. It was a voice full of hate, promising pain and death to those who dared to oppose him. Cullen blinked, struggled to regain his senses. He felt something heavy in his hand. Glancing there he noticed his well-used sword, raised to cut her down, the blade sparkling in the setting sun. _

"_Cullen," Gregoire bellowed. "She failed her Harrowing. You have to fulfil your oath."_

_Cullen nodded slowly. He had sworn to protect her. After their common experience with the blood mage three years ago, they had sworn each other to kill the other should they ever succumb to a demon. I've promised her, Cullen sobbed. I've promised to protect her. I failed. He raised his sword again._

"_Cullen, no…"_

_Cullen staggered back. For a second the fog cleared away. This can't be right. She was successful in her Harrowing. She left the tower after Jowan's flight, went with that Grey Warden only to die at Ostagar. She died a hero, her soul untainted. This can't be right._

"_Strike her down or I will," Gregoire sneered. The sneer reminded Cullen of somebody else but he didn't know who. _

"_I'll do it," he answered hoarsely, only to earn himself a nod and a smirk from Gregoire as well as a sob from her. _

"_Find redemption in the maker," he uttered calmly before striking._

_An inhuman scream rolled through the manor as the blade slashed through Gregoire's chest. Hissing and fuming he went down, his body fast dissolving into a mass of black goo. Only she remained for a few seconds more. _

"_Thank you Cullen. I miss you."_

"_I miss you too," Cullen sobbed. "I'll miss you forever."_

.

"What the hell…" Sirius uttered.

"You saw it too?" Cullen asked hoarsely. It has been similar with the boggart, only this time it got worse, far worse. However, in a way the boggart-experience had helped him to overcome the influence of this hellish artefact.

"It was … intense," Andromeda whispered. She looked shaken, stared at the locket shattered into two pieces by Cullen's sword. She still felt the dark aura permeating the whole room, having no explanation why she was able to feel it. In a way it was like sharing Cullen's emotions, a very disturbing experience. "We should show the locket to Croaker. He's an old friend of mine. Perhaps he has an idea about the nature of this… this thing."

Suddenly, a crack announced the arrival of the old house-elf Kreacher. Before Sirius had a chance to react – expecting some kind of stupid behaviour, insults or even an attack on the non-Pureblood who dared to enter his beloved master's room – Kreacher jumped Cullen and hugged him. It was a more than funny sight to behave, the tiny house-elf, his short arms barely able to reach around Cullen's waist, leaning into the muscled man's chest and sobbing.

"Nice man destroyed bad locket. Nice man helped Kreacher fulfil young master's wish. Nice man lifted bad emotions. Kreacher isn't a bad house-elf anymore. Kreacher is happy. Nice man isn't a worthless squib."

"Err, Kreacher…?" Sirius asked somewhat uncertain how to feel about this unusual behaviour.

Kreacher loosened his grip and brushed away a few tears from his big, round eyes. His smile broadened as Cullen offered him a handkerchief. Sirius commented the gesture with a groan: "that's Hermione's influence, isn't it?"

"What? Treating a feeling being like… a feeling being?" Cullen frowned. "That's called humanity or, if you're the religious type, Andraste's commandment."

"I only meant," Sirius started. He hesitated, glanced down to the old house-elf. He had hated Kreacher these past two years, belittled and insulted him at every opportunity and Kreacher had retorted in kind. Hermione hadn't been happy about the way Sirius treated the old elf, despite Kreacher insulting her too at every visit. Only now did Sirius realize that he had – perhaps – been in the wrong.

Cullen didn't wait for Sirius but kneeled down in front of Kreacher and asked kindly: "please explain yourself. Your master wanted this to be destroyed? You mean Regulus Black, Sirius late brother?"

Kreacher nodded eagerly. He blew his nose again and started to tell – tell them the story of his late master, a cave and a dark artefact.

.

"In the end he found redemption," Cullen said supportively. "In the end he saw the light and returned from his way into darkness."

"Why didn't he tell me?" Sirius asked. He looked shocked and broken. For a decade he had hated his brother for his decision to join Voldemort's ranks. The story had been an awful one: how Voldemort demanded Kreacher's assistance in hiding the locket. How Kreacher nearly died if not for Regulus' command to return. Regulus – who wanted to leave the Death Eaters or at least do something right in the end. Kreacher told them about the second visit, how Regulus sent him away with the order to destroy the object and how he died in that cave all alone, killed by Inferi and the poison. _I tried everything_, the old house-elf whined. _But nothing helped. Kreacher was a bad house-elf_.

"You weren't exactly on speaking terms. Perhaps he feared you wouldn't believe him, that you would assume it's only a trap."

Sirius nodded slowly. "I always assumed he was one of them. All these years I thought he died as a Death Eater."

"Remember him as the man he was at the end, trying to repent for his former errors." Cullen put his hand on Sirius' shoulder. The sight would certainly stun most visitors: Sirius sitting in a chair with Kreacher sitting on his lap, crying for his late young master.

Sirius smiled weakly. "Could we continue at a later time with the house? I… I need some time to grasp this."

Cullen frowned but nodded curtly. "That would be alright. But you'll still leave the house as soon as possible." The Templar continued, looking at Kreacher now: "perhaps we could retrieve the body of Master Regulus and put him in the family grave. What do you think?" He glared at Sirius, daring him to object. It wasn't needed. "I would like that," he whispered, while Kreacher was only able to nod.

"It's decided then," Cullen stated calmly. "I'll take my leave for today. Andy? You mentioned this Croaker. Could we visit him now? I really want to get rid of this blasphemous piece of jewellery."

"Alright, let's go," Andromeda smiled, completely understanding the feeling.

As they wanted to leave the house, Kreacher stopped them a last time. "Master Cullen? Master Cullen helped Kreacher. What can Kreacher do in return for him?"

Cullen looked him in the eyes, thin king about the offer. "Trying to be nicer to Master Sirius would be a good start, Kreacher," Cullen responded. "Be polite to Miss Hermione when you see her again. Explain to her the bond between house-elves and their families. Miss Hermione is a Muggleborn," Cullen emphasized the word. "She really wants to understand but needs someone to explain things. Can you do that for me?"

Kreacher nodded eagerly. He didn't like it but he would do it.

As they left the house, Andromeda whispered: "I never expected to see the day…"

.

_**On their way to the Ministry**_

.

"What was that?" Cullen asked in a whisper.

Andromeda had stopped on their way to the Ministry only to drag him into a Muggle café, doing some spell as her first action. Cullen felt the magic around them but was unable to identify it.

"Muffliato spell," Andromeda explained, "gives us privacy. And now: spill!"

"Spill?" Cullen asked, guessing what she wanted to know. Andromeda was far better at noticing small details than Sirius. That and the news about Regulus hadn't shaken her up that bad.

Andromeda actually growled: "about the locket. You felt something, something that troubled you immensely." Her expression softened. "I have the dire feeling that I won't like it but I still want to know."

Cullen sighed and nodded slowly. "I didn't… I didn't want to upset Sirius. I knew that feeling, this dark aura around the locket. I've encountered it before, if far weaker."

He stopped for a moment to allow Andromeda to think about it. He wasn't surprised as she got the right conclusion. "Harry," she whispered. "You felt the same with Harry's scar."

Cullen nodded gravely. "Something is nestling there, something… living, something dark. I wanted to examine it this summer and extract it if possible. It had the same aura as the locket only far weaker. It feels like a sliver of a soul has been imbedded."

He noticed how Andromeda paled. She got white as a sheet. "We can't tell Sirius. He would be floored."

Cullen calmly responded: "no, we can't. At least not before I find a solution to the problem."

"You… you have an idea?"

"I have, but I need to prepare a few things. And I'll need a few helpers. Marius could be one of them. Can I trust him?"

"About Harry?" Cullen nodded. "Yes," Andromeda nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, you can. What do you have in mind?"

"I'll tell you later. It's too soon. Trust me with this."

Andromeda nodded weakly. "I fear I have an idea what all of this is about, especially this locket. It's more important than ever that we go visit Croaker. Let's go," she dragged him away from the table, out of the café and down the street towards Diagon Alley and the Ministry. She hoped to be wrong about it but her heart knew better.

.

_**Ministry of Magic**_

.

Croaker/Pettigrew slammed the file down on the table. Voldemort's spy was a very unhappy rat right now. He expected to feel no small amount of pain in the near future. His master would be neither amused nor lenient hearing about his failure to obtain any relevant news. For a moment he allowed his head to sink down on the table surface and sob.

_It's not my fault_, he whined.

The Unspeakables, this became quite obvious reading their file about Cullen, knew nothing. NOTHING! Cullen apparently so far hadn't cooperated all too much but as he hadn't broken any law they couldn't force him – despite some notes in the file about "a squib shouldn't be allowed to stand in the path of magical theory progress". So the Unspeakables were left with examining the veil. Pettigrew never had been good at magical theory and Arithmancy in the past. Most of the explanations in the file he didn't really understand. One thing however he grasped: Something about the veil had changed – something fundamental. The examiner even suggested the possibility of shutting it down completely. He saw the imminent danger of an open connection between this world and… somewhere else. Carefully Pettigrew started to make copies. He still had a bit of time until Croaker returned from the false lead they had let slip to draw him away.

Half an hour later he was on his way back to the entrance, nodding to a colleague here and there, trying his best not to arouse suspicion but still avoid longer conversations. His mind was still on his imminent meeting with his unhappy master, so he noticed the couple far too late.

"Hi, Croaker," Andromeda Tonks smiled. _Blasted_, Pettigrew groaned. He didn't know that the blood traitor bitch and the Unspeakable were close. According to her expression and greeting she was at least friends with the grumpy man. _How would Croaker react_? Hoping to react accordingly, Pettigrew curtly hugged the woman. It seemed the right thing to do. It was however the man at her side who concerned him far more. He recognized Cullen from the pictures and had to hide his disgust that a Squib was even allowed entrance to these halls and corridors.

"I wanted to speak with you about something, Croaker," Andromeda said with a low voice. "We found something you should have a look at."

"Sure," Pettigrew made a snap decision. This could be of interest for his master and perhaps spare him a round or two of Crucio. He made an inviting gesture towards his office and followed Andromeda through the door, Cullen behind his back. Pettigrew felt his scrutinizing look and wondered if he shouldn't better have left. Offering Cullen a seat at Andromeda's side, Pettigrew saw his eyes narrowing. Cullen's mouth opened and closed a few times but he said nothing. With a furrowed brow he glared at the Unspeakable.

Suddenly everything happened very fast. Later Andromeda wouldn't be able to say who reached first for his weapon, Cullen for his sword or "Croaker" for his wand. In any case Cullen was faster, way faster. In one slashing motion he draw the sword and made a cutting attack like in the Great Hall when Draco Malfoy tried to curse him. Only this time it wasn't the wand he was targeting at but the arm behind. "Croaker" staggered back, his scream of pain alerting his colleagues. His left hand clutched the stump of his right arm, the rest of it still gripping the now useless wand.

"CULLEN!" Andromeda jumped back. She wanted to reach for her wand, flabbergasted by the sudden chain of events. A single glare of Cullen made her stop. It didn't stop however the couple of Unspeakables that stormed into the office. Before they had a chance to attack the Templar and do something stupid, Cullen raised his sword and yelled "PEACE!" Everybody staggered. Everybody sacked on his knees and lost grip of his wand. Everybody – aside from Andromeda.

_He spared me_, she realized. _He trusts me not to attack him_. She frowned. _Perhaps I should trust him too – for now._ Looking around something caught her eye. Glancing down she noticed "Croaker's" wand, hand and forearm lying on the desk. Only the forearm and hand was completely silvery.

Slowly the other Unspeakables came to their senses, while Pettigrew's eyes darted around, searching for a way to escape. Before anybody could react, Andromeda stepped into the middle. "Stop," she commanded with her best pureblood lady voice. "This isn't the real Croaker. It's an imposter." She gestured towards the silvery arm.

Realizing that everything was lost, Pettigrew darted for the door, only to be tripped by Andromeda's foot. He came crashing down in front of his "colleagues" who were quite eager to take him in.

"Polyjuice?" One of them asked. Andromeda shrugged and threw Cullen a quizzical look. "I don't know," he admitted. "I only noticed that this man has two auras about him. One normal and very dark aura below and another very thin layer covering it. That and his arm," he pointed towards the cut off arm, "comes from very dark magic." He didn't explain that the arm had a similar feeling about it as the shattered locket. The arm had been created by the same mage who created the locket and caused Harry's scar. This was one detail he only wanted Andromeda to know – and the real Croaker.

"Be careful that he doesn't get away – or accidentally dies," Andromeda demanded.

"He won't do either," one of the Unspeakables grinned. "Come with me, _Croaker,_" he grinned. "We have much to discuss."

.

_**Grimmauld Place**_

.

"I think we broke him," Andromeda grinned, feeling immensely happy to be the one able to tell Sirius the stunning news. Her cousin was sitting in his comfortable chair – pale, with wide eyes and utterly speechless, a piece of paper in his white-knuckled hands.

They had spent far more time at the Ministry than intended but it had all been worth it. Using a spell to force the imposter back into his real self, the Unspeakables had wasted no time to alarm the DMLE. Amelia Bones herself had interrogated the man. Since the battle at the Ministry and Voldemort's appearance in front of Minister Fudge, she had been allowed to openly investigate the case of Sirius Black. However, despite Harry's statement about seeing Pettigrew at Voldemort's resurrection, and her niece trusting him, she hadn't really been able to do something about the matter. She had been stopped left and right in her investigations, not only by Lucius Malfoy and his sycophants but also by Dumbledore.

This however changed it all. Pettigrew, she had Pettigrew in her claws. Immediately assigning Towers and Brinks, two Aurors she trusted with her life, to his security with strong orders to watch out for any attempts to silence the man for good, she had been giddy like a schoolgirl on her first day about the possibility to interrogate him. It had been enlightening.

"They have Pettigrew?" Sirius asked hoarsely.

"Yes," Andromeda grinned. "Cullen detected and caught him."

Sirius looked up, overwhelming gratitude in his eyes. "Thank you, Cullen," he barely whispered. "You have no idea what that means to me."

"You're welcome," Cullen bowed slightly.

"Can I offer you something? Another house? My firstborn?"

"Treating Kreacher like he deserves and being a real godfather to Harry would be enough."

Sirius nodded with a weak grin. "I would have done that anyway." He lifted the slip of paper. "This is for real?"

"Yes," Andromeda confirmed. "Apparently Pettigrew admitted that he had been the secret-keeper, a Death Eater and betrayed the Potters, not you. There will still be a trial in a few days but Amelia lifted the Dementor-kiss-on-sight order and the warrant. You're under house-arrest for now and only allowed to leave your house under Auror supervision. Tonks counts as your escort," she added with a grin.

"In a few days you'll be a free man," Cullen confirmed.

Sirius was ecstatic until some thought crossed his mind: "…wait. You said house-arrest – so I'll have to stay here?"

"No," Andromeda shook her head. "This house is unknown to the DMLE. You're under house-arrest at the home of an upstanding member of our society – who happens to be your cousin. Be my guest, Sirius, be my guest."

.

_**Privet Drive**_

.

"Cullen?" Tonks asked meekly, exchanging a worried look with her mother. Both women had agreed to accompany him to Privet Drive for a little talk with Harry. Sirius wanted him to know about the changes – his imminent freedom as well as what they planned for his summer – before he read about it in the Daily Prophet. Cullen had demanded that Sirius stay at Grimmauld Place, officially because not every Auror knew about the new orders and they didn't want to have him killed, unofficially because he feared Sirius reactions when visiting Harry's "happy home".

The stories had been disgusting, stories about Harry's room, how the twins once had to remove bars to free him, especially the details Hermione had put together from tiny slips Harry had made over the years. _Cupboard_, Cullen frowned deeply. _She had been in tears speaking about it._

"Cullen?" Andromeda now asked too, feeling her shoulders tense as she watched the man. They had reached Privet Drive 4 a few minutes ago but instead of reaching for the doorknob, Cullen had suddenly stopped and was now staring at the house with a mix of disgust and rage.

"How could he do this?"

Tonks threw a quizzical look in her mother's direction only to get a clueless shrug in return.

"Blasted, damned and stupid goat that he is," Cullen hissed.

_Ah_, Andromeda silently nodded. _It's about Albus again_.

"Greater good, yes," Cullen continued with a deep growl. "Happy childhood, my ass," Cullen glared at the house front, his eyes only narrow slits. Suddenly he grabbed Andromeda's right and Tonks' left hand and drew them towards the brick wall, pushed their open palms against the cold stone. Andromeda just wanted to question the reasoning behind his behaviour as suddenly something flared into her mind. Pictures and emotions were running rampant in her head. Had she been able to notice her daughter's face, she would have known that Tonks experienced the same. It was more than disturbing. She felt magic under her hands. Knowing enough about wards, having erected a few on her own home, she realized that somehow Cullen allowed her to feel the protections around Harry's home. There were the usual wards against intruders and fire as well as some monitoring charms. However there was something completely different too, a very strong ward it seemed, a ward that made her feel unclean. Involuntarily she rubbed her side with her free hand as if trying to scrub away a layer of filth.

"Do you feel it," Cullen angrily whispered. "How could he do this? Doesn't he know what he's doing to Harry, to the Dursleys?"

And Andromeda felt it. Something was… moving… behind the ward, lurking, watching. "What's…?"

"Demons," Cullen hissed. "The arrogant prick has no idea what he did erecting this ward around the house. He thinned the layer to the Fade. It's like a beacon to them, promising freedom and free meals. You told me about the Dementors. This is similar. He changed the Dursley house into a free snack for every Demon for miles around."

"Could they… break through?"

"No," Cullen shook his head to her relief. "But they're able to influence the residents of the house. Remember: Demons are personified bad emotions. Their vicinity certainly had an enhancing effect on any bad emotions, any bad virtue the Dursleys felt."

"The Headmaster certainly had no idea about this," Tonks said, trying more to convince herself than Cullen.

"I share your opinion," Cullen growled to Tonks' surprise. "That doesn't excuse what he did, doesn't excuse that he's playing with things he has no idea about, only because 'he knows best', mightiest and wisest man around and all that shit. Blasted… arrogant… prick," every word was accompanied by another hit of his fist against the door.

_Knocking on Durselys' door,_ Andromeda fruitlessly tried to see something funny about the whole matter. She glanced towards Cullen's angry face. _I see some nice conversation in the near future_, she mused, _a conversation between a very pissed Templar and a meddling headmaster._

.

"How dare you to barge into my house?"

Vernon Dursley fumed, following Cullen as the enraged Templar moved through the house, his eyes darkening with every sick discovery on his way through the middle class home. Petunia was watching him with frightened eyes, clinging to her son like he was some kind of life line. Unlike her thick headed husband she seemed to grasp that something was about to change.

"You can't…" Vernon tried to stop Cullen as he – after visiting Harry's room on the first floor – reached for the cupboard's door.

_Why does he want to_… Andromeda paled as she had an epiphany about his reasoning. At the same moment, Cullen seized Vernon's jacket at the lapels and pushed him away before trying to pry open the wooden door. It was apparently looked, something only prompting him to growl before Cullen without a second thought pushed his well-trained muscled and heaved open the door, simply breaking the poor lock. Ignoring Vernon's all too loud complaints Cullen stepped forward, looked into the cupboard and froze.

_What?_… Andromeda and Tonks watched him closely. _What is he seeing there? Are those… tears?_ There was no doubt: a few tears were running down Cullen's cheek as he stared into the cupboard like it was a void drawing him into its blackness.

"Cullen?" Harry whispered softly. "It's okay."

_What is okay?_ Andromeda cursed. She wanted to know…

Cullen turned around. There was only pain on his face. With a scrutinizing look he glanced around, taking in the faces of Harry, Vernon… Petunia. Something he saw in Petunia's face gave him the strength to pull himself together – but not overcome the grief and hate he felt. _Shame_, Andy thought. _She's ashamed of whatever Cullen saw there_.

"Leave my house, you freak," Vernon growled and actually dared to touch the young Templar. _Bad mistake, dude_, Tonks thought.

It was bad luck for Vernon that many things had happened today, things that amassed to a mountain of bad emotions inside the Templar. Cullen hated how the Ministry had handled the Sirius case. Cullen hated how young Regulus Black had to die all alone with even his brother hating him. Cullen hated Dumbledore for putting such wards around the Dursley home without a second thought about the dire repercussions. He hated how the Dursleys had treated Harry, and that Harry had accepted it long ago. More than anything else however he hated himself, his passiveness in the past.

How often had he said nothing when a family ousted their magical child?

How often had he kept his mouth shut when a village treated such a family like lepers, fearing that they were somehow contagious?

How often had he done nothing against a Templar abusing his power over Mages?

When Cullen erupted into action, when Cullen's fist smashed into Vernon Dursley's broad, meaty face and knocked him out cold, he was equally punching himself for all the wrongs he did in the past. Not that this thought helped Vernon against the pain in any way.

The onlookers of the scene stayed completely silent, shock on most faces with only a small hint of approval on Andromeda's while Harry was completely confused.

"Harry," Cullen suddenly addressed him, his voice so hoarse that it was completely foreign to him. "Go upstairs. Pack your belongings. Andy, go with him. Examine him. Heal him if needed."

Andromeda paled even more at the thought of abuse marks on Harry's all too thin body. She moved to have a look into the cupboard herself but Cullen stopped her. "Don't!" He stared into Andy's and Tonks' eyes. "Say nothing about this to Sirius." Both women understood. Not even Cullen would be able to hold him back should Sirius hear about how the Dursleys treated his godson.

"Albus won't like that," Andy mumbled. Cullen glared. "I only had to say it," she grinned. "Don't kill the messenger." Without another word she followed Harry upstairs. Andy was right. Albus wouldn't like this. He actually hadn't planned to do this – at least not so soon. But after seeing this he wouldn't allow Harry to stay here for a single day more.

"Tonks, have an eye on this pig." Tonks nodded gravely, watching Cullen who grabbed Petunia's upper arm. "We have to talk," he told her, dragging her towards the porch, closing the door behind them to have some privacy.

_He doesn't look happy_, Tonks mused. _Not one bit_.

.

"What are they talking about?" Harry asked Tonks, staring towards the door of the porch. Tonks glanced towards her mother before she shrugged helplessly. Andromeda hadn't said a word since she returned with Harry from the first floor. His meagre belongings – mostly his trunk and Hedwig in her cage – were waiting near the door. Cullen and Petunia had been speaking for more than an hour now. Tonks had treated Vernon's face and instantly put him into magical sleep as he only woke up to start yelling. She didn't need that right now.

"I have no idea. Whatever he's been telling her, most of the time at least one of them has been crying, often both."

Petunia and Cullen had been joined by Dudley after a while. He had been the only one of the family not going against Cullen from the start. He had been silent most of the time, more or less polite if a tad distant since Harry's arrival. Harry wondered what had changed him. _Perhaps the incident with the Dementors_, he guessed. Now he was serving as his mother's anchor in this stormy sea of emotions, standing at her side and allowing her to clinch to his broad shoulders. _At least he's a good son to her_, Harry mused. _She needs that right now_.

"Should we…" Harry interrupted himself because Cullen opened the door and waved for him to come outdoors too.

"Petunia wants to tell you something, Harry."

.

Petunia watched Harry as he stepped onto the porch. The last hour had been harassing to put it simply. Cullen told her stories, stories that shattered the last remains of her haughtiness and pretended self-control.

Stories about his home country, how magical children were treated there, what they had to endure. His story about making them tranquil had been especially disturbing. Petunia couldn't stop her body from trembling, thinking about Lily – spirit, spitfire Lily – turning into an emotionless husk. _How can they hate magic that much? How could I hate magic like this?_

Then there were other stories, stories about Harry and his friends, about the dangers he had been facing and the fame he had to endure, the fame caused by surviving a night his parents died, surviving because his mother sacrificed her life to save his_. And I've belittled her all these years. I nearly succeeded in obliterating Lily's gift. I betrayed you, Lily_. That Lily would never behave like that with their roles reversed only increased the shame and grief she felt.

Her eyes were red and puffy, her smile weak and her lips trembling. "I have something to tell you, Harry, things to explain. I know I don't deserve it, but please listen…"

.

"I was jealous, Harry," Petunia said with a deep sigh. "This boy, this Severus… he was taking her away. It had always been a bit strained between us. Yes, Lily loved me and I loved her, but she had so much more in everything. She was smarter; she had more grace and was more beautiful. Wherever we were, she always drew the attention to her. I was always only in her shadow. You can't imagine how painful it is to be the ugly duckling with such a swan at your side. And then she got magic too. It felt so unfair. I wanted it too. I even wrote your Headmaster, wanted to be at Hogwarts too. Naturally he declined, politely, but still I felt dejected – again. As she prepared for Hogwarts, our parents made a fuss about her. Lily here and Lily there, it was devastating.

"She promised to write me every week and she actually did. She certainly meant well, wanted to stay close by sharing this whole new world with me. However, she only assured the contrary. I felt even more jealous, reading about something that was denied to me. Every break my parents behaved like every couple of parents would behave in their situation: overjoyed to have her back if only for a few weeks. I could have been invisible while Lily was there. I started to hate her holidays, praying for her to return to school as soon as possible. Every time she spent holidays with some friend our parents were sad but I felt only joy.

"After her exam, she came back with that man, telling us that he had proposed and she had accepted. Grandma was sad and happy at the same time, you can imagine. And me? What about me? Hadn't I been successful at school too? Wasn't I ready to enter the adult life as well? Where was my Prince Charming? Didn't I deserve to be happy too? Your father was handsome, witty and bloody rich, Harry. How could I have ever competed with that?"

Petunia looked at Dudley and hugged him. "I don't regret marrying Vernon, Dudley, because I got you. However, I certainly acted rashly and mostly because of me being jealous about Lily's James. I never finished my education. I never fulfilled my dreams of becoming a barrister. In a way I lost hope to ever be someone special, someone my parents would be proud of. I married Vernon and became a house-wife and mother."

Again she looked at Dudley with a weak smile. "I adored Dudley, Harry. He was the one thing I really loved about my life. The house? The garden? The tea parties and the polite 'Good afternoon Mrs. Dursley' greetings? All irrelevant. I only needed my Dudley." She actually pouted for a moment. "Only the name – I could have done with something nicer. Your father is to blame for that." Dudley huffed. He had suspected it, always had hated his name.

Petunia patted Dudley's stomach, a stomach – as Harry noticed now – that wasn't nearly as profound as last summer. Dudley actually looked healthier this summer, more muscles than fat. "I certainly spoiled him. I never showed him limits, was never the mother I should have been – like I never was the aunt you deserved. And now it's too late."

Petunia looked up to Cullen, thought about the things Harry had experienced this summer already. Cullen told her about the godfather Harry nearly lost, the mass-murderer that actually wasn't one. _Perhaps he will give Harry the happiness I was never able to offer, the happiness he deserves_. "Then those wizards killed our parents. They killed them to hurt Lily but in my opinion they only hurt me. Lily wasn't there. She never showed up at the funeral. It was because of the danger but I really needed her that day. My jealousy turned into hate on that day, Harry. I hated magic. I hated wizards. And I hated her for allowing it to happen. The day after your parents died, your precious headmaster delivered you like a postal package. He didn't speak with us on that day, just put you on our doorstep like a set out kitten. I learned of your mother's death from a letter, Harry. They didn't even have the decency to speak with me about it. They never visited us to explain things. What they expected. How we should raise you. If we even wanted you."

Petunia looked very sad and guilty now. "We never wanted you, Harry. Does that make me a bad aunt? Certainly. I was never able to understand your world. I felt unable to handle your bouts of magic. It frightened me. What if you got angry one day and set fire to our house? We never got money to raise you, to feed and properly clothe you. It's a poor excuse, I know, but it made it easy to tell us that you were a burden, a nuisance. For years we expected to see the Headmaster or anybody else again. We didn't know about your godfather being in prison. I only knew that he was a godfather and wondered why he didn't show up. Where was he? Where were his other friends?

"I don't expect you to forgive me, Harry, at least not now, perhaps never. But I hope you understand a bit better why I…" Petunia struggled "why I abused you the way I did. Why I allowed Vernon to behave like he did. Dudley," she put a hand on her son's shoulder "isn't to blame. He only copied what his father demonstrated. It was my fault that you had a shitty youth. Blame me."

.

"I still don't like her," Harry said a wee bit later while they were standing in front of his aunt's house.

"I don't think she expected that to change – at least not so soon," Andy softly commented.

"Do you think," Harry asked Cullen, glancing around where the invisible wards still did their work, "she would have been different, treated me different without those wards?"

Cullen sighed. "We'll never know. To be honest: I don't think so. Perhaps they would have left you alone more often, wouldn't have treated you like their servant and refrained from insulting you and your parents. But the vicinity of demons, I assume, only enhanced bad emotions, it didn't cause it." Cullen stared at the kitchen's window where Petunia still stood, watching them, with Dudley at her side. "She's neither an exceptional woman like your mum nor evil incarnate, Harry. She's a normal woman who was completely overwhelmed by the situation. It would have been better not to force you on her back then or at least offer her some help in handling the situation. She made your youth a living hell, but her own life hasn't been much better – especially not with that husband around."

Cullen, Andy and Tonks watched Harry in silence, as he was thinking about it all. It was obvious that he would need some time to handle everything. Perhaps his friends could help. Neville, in particular, seemed able to grasp what Harry was feeling, Cullen mused.

"I hate this house," Harry whispered. He turned towards Cullen. "Can you dissolve these wards?"

Cullen nodded. "I'll do it in a few days. I have to prepare something and examine them more closely. I don't want to accidentally tear down the last layer."

"What will happen to them?" Harry nodded towards the house and his… his family.

"They should leave. The Headmaster told you that those wards were for their protection too. Your cousin has already been attacked once. It would be too dangerous for them to stay."

"It's my fault that they're in danger," Harry sighed.

Andy wanted to object but Cullen agreed. "In a way: yes. Your pure existence is reason enough to endanger them. I assume you want to help them?"

Harry nodded slowly. "Uncle Vernon will have to quit his job. Moving around will cost them some. They were a shitty family but they're still family. I think I owe it to them."

"I don't know about owing," Andromeda said with a soft smile, putting a hand on his shoulder. "But I'm certain your mother would have been proud of you. I can't imagine she ever stopped loving her sister. Sisters are like that." Her expression turned sad and for a moment Harry wondered about Andy's feelings towards her sisters, estranged as they may be.

"It's the right thing to do," Harry declared.

"That it is," Cullen nodded. "That it is."

.

_**A/N**_

_One Horcrux gone, a few more to go._

_Marius Black (senior) is one of only three squibs named in the canon (the others being Mrs. Figgs and Filch)._

_Next time: solving a number of problems and Albus' reaction to the whole mess._


	5. Chapter 5 Family and Friends

_**A/N**_

_**Pgeraci: **__"benign evil", I like that. It's something I can imagine about Albus and you'll see more of that in this chapter._

_In this chapter I'll concentrate more on Cullen and less on Harry scenes. You certainly read more than enough stories with extended "Harry going on holiday with the Grangers" description, so this will today only play a small part._

_This story is unbetaed._

**.**

**Family and Friends**

.

_**Hogwarts – Headmaster's Office**_

.

Something was wrong, truly wrong and not going according to plan – his plans. He could feel it in his bones. The first warning had come from his silver instruments he used to watch over his followers – with the best of intentions and only to protect them, even from themselves if needed. Some of them had a tendency to act before thinking, to go against his orders and all reasoning, because of their short-sightedness.

_Why can't they accept that I have more experience with this kind of things, that I simply have an advanced look behind the curtains? _

Albus sighed. It wasn't a surprise. He had seen it often enough in the last decades, but still had hoped it would get easier with time. _Sirius_, he grimaced. It all started with Sirius' return. At least he was still confined to Grimmauld Place. _I have to ascertain that it stays that way. _Sirius on the loose would be a horrible development. Too often he had tried to meddle with Harry, his living conditions and his educations. _It can't be allowed to happen_.

_It is awful_, Albus mused with a tad of exhaustion. Minerva had warned him against leaving Harry at Petunia's doorstep. Naturally she had been right, but there had been no other way if he wanted Harry to stay safe. Every magical family would have raised him like a pampered prince, something that couldn't be allowed to happen. He could only hope that it wouldn't be as bad as Minerva had feared. Harry's behaviour and actions in his first year had partly proven Minerva's fears right but his hopes, too. Harry was poorly fed and only owned ill-fitted clothes, but overall he was healthy and his character, well… he was a hero in the making. He had first rescued that Muggleborn girl from the troll; he then defeated Quirrell/Tom and only needed small nudges to fulfil his destiny. Since then, again and again, he had shown his hero-tendency and his ability to gather loyal friends around him that would follow him anywhere, even into the depths of the Ministry as mere adolescents.

Albus wished Harry a chance at a real life, a normal life like every teenager should be allowed to have. However, it simply couldn't be. Harry was the one who had to kill Tom and only Albus knew why: the scar. The ugly, painful scar that allowed Tom to connect to the boy's thoughts, emotions and dreams; the scar that allowed him to even possess the boy for a short moment at the Ministry. The scar that would be Tom's downfall in the last battle when both died as the prophecy told years ago.

A single tear slipped down Albus' cheek as he thought about the necessity of Harry's death. So many lives depended on this fatality, so many lives. He sighed. _At least he had a boy's youth_. Albus had seen to that. His order members more than once wondered why he didn't train him. Filius, in particular, had been more than eager, once he realized the boy's duelling talents. _He doesn't understand_, Albus sighed again. _How could he_? Harry wouldn't beat Tom with his talents but with his sacrifice.

_It was necessary. It was for the Greater Good. But the thought still bloody hurt._

.

"He's not there."

Albus stared at her in silence for some time, struggling to suppress a groan. He had feared this. After the warning signs from his instruments – a warning that Harry hadn't been home for the last 48 hours – he had sent Hestia Jones, a trustworthy Order member and Auror, to have a look at Privet Drive 4.

"And Mrs. Dursley?"

"She wasn't helpful. Polite, but not helpful. A bit deflated perhaps. She didn't seem concerned about his absence. I didn't use Legilimency on her; it would have been too obvious."

Albus nodded slowly. Like most Aurors, Hestia had a basic knowledge of Legilimency and Occlumency, but nothing noteworthy. She had to wave her wand and say words to use Legilimency and even then she wasn't very experienced at gathering information. Petunia would have known and wouldn't be happy about the mental rape. _Petunia_, Albus sighed inwardly. He remembered her letter, her pleas to allow her to go to Hogwarts. With her being a Squib, he could have done it but it was uncommon to say the least. She would have hated Hogwarts after her first run-ins with young wizards. Petunia's thirst for knowledge and enthusiasm about the magical world wouldn't have survived the insults for long and she would have turned into a second Filch in no time. Children can be so spiteful and hurtful.

_Squib, yes Petunia was a squib_, Albus pondered for a moment. Like her mother and grandmother before. It was one of the riddles even he hadn't been able to solve that sometimes in a family squib after squib lived without any knowledge of the magical world until one day a child appeared with real magical talent, often frighteningly talented. It had happened to Lily Evans. It was the same with Harry's little friend. Granger didn't know but her father was a squib as well, his core even bigger than Filch's. Her grandfather had been a squib as well as certainly many other Granger men before them.

_Perhaps I could set her on track to solve that riddle_, Albus mused. It could be a good distraction after Harry's death. He didn't want to lose another pupil, especially not someone as talented as she was. The magical world needed new blood, desperately. And researching something like that would allow her to still be a housewife, and mother of Ron Weasley's children. The boy was proud and wouldn't like to have a career woman at his side, a woman that overshadowed his own mediocre talents. The relation between both teenagers had changed since the Yule Ball and it was one of the things Albus wanted to nudge in the right direction during the next school year. Albus smiled. He would love to see them happy. _Opposites attract_, _they say_.

Suddenly he frowned as he stumbled over one of Hestia's words: _polite?_ Petunia didn't do polite.

"Did she call you a freak?" He asked before thinking, cursing himself for the slip of words.

"No," Hestia frowned. "Why would she?"

"Nothing," Albus smiled unconvincingly. "A little quirk of hers, that's all. Thank you, Hestia. That will be all for today." Inwardly he groaned. Even he had been called a freak at every visit. It was as certain as fog in London at winter's time. Something happened and he knew he wouldn't like it.

Hestia nodded and left the office deep in thoughts. She paused in front of Albus' office. _I should speak with Filius about this_.

.

_**Grimmauld Place**_

.

"He's not here," Kreacher sneered at the headmaster and tried to close the door only to find a foot – a foot clad with a silly pale blue and pearl-embroidered shoe – stopping it.

Albus wasn't a happy headmaster right now. "What do you mean: he's not here? He has to be here." _Hadn't he Sirius forbidden to leave?_ It was only for the best. It was too dangerous for him to leave the house, especially now with Tom's followers knowing about his Animagus form and Tom unhappy about his latest failure.

Kreacher looked down at the foot as if Albus had put his shoe in some dog excrement on his way to Grimmauld Place. "Master left the house with Master Cullen. He hasn't return."

_Master_, Albus stumbled. Kreacher never called Sirius 'Master', not like this, not like a house-elf would call his real master. It had always been accompanied with a pained look or a sneer and some insult or at least a whine about what had become of the proud house of Black. And Kreacher would absolutely never use the word Master describing some squib. _He would rather have a stroke_, of that Albus was certain. Still, he just did it and in a way it frightened Albus. It was a development he hadn't expected, and had no immediate reserve plan to counter the move.

"Did he tell you where he went?" Kreacher stared at him, obviously thinking very hard whether he wanted to answer. "Please, it's important. He may be in danger." It was a long shot to assume that Kreacher would care about his Master but apparently he got it right because after a moment of thinking Kreacher actually answered: "he went to Mistress Andromeda."

_That did it: Mistress Andromeda? Mistress? Hell had finally frozen over. _

.

_**Tonks Manor**_

.

"How could you be so careless?"

Albus had barged into the house of Andromeda and Ted Tonks, only to find them sitting together in the parlour, enjoying the afternoon in the company of Sirius Black and… Harry Potter. "Can't you see how dangerous it is to be here? And Harry? He has to be at the Dursley to recharge the wards. If he doesn't…"

Albus felt a small but determined hand on his shoulder pushing him into a comfortable chair. The same hand put a mug of tea in front of him. "Breathe, Albus," Andy smirked. "we don't want you to get a stroke." Her eyes told something different and Albus didn't like that look one bit. For a moment he thought about casting a spell on the tea. _She wouldn't, would she_?

"Everything is alright, Sir," Harry quipped. At least he was still polite. Sirius was surprisingly calm. Even more surprising were the glares he got from the Tonks_. They know something they didn't tell Sirius_, he assumed.

"He's only here for a few days," Andy's soothed Albus' concern. He felt relief wash over him. Albus closed his eyes for a moment, steadying his breath and his tense nerves. Because of this he didn't notice the warning look Andy exchanged with her guests. "After what happened at the Ministry, we thought Harry could use a few days with Sirius. And none of us likes Grimmauld Place very much. It's too dark, especially for a teenager."

"So, he'll only stay for a few days?"

"A week at most," Andy nodded. "Ted and I want to go on a bit of a vacation in July. But we'll be back for your birthday, Harry. Perhaps we could ask Molly to arrange a little birthday party. What do you think about that, Albus?"

"Splendid idea, Andromeda," Albus smiled, now feeling much better. Perhaps his feelings had been a tad in overdrive. Duelling someone like Tom could do that to a man. "Splendid idea, indeed."

.

"Why didn't you tell him? Why did you lie?" Harry wondered after Albus had left.

Andy blinked twice in mock surprise. "Lie? Me? Never, a lady doesn't lie. She omits a few details at most." Andy sipped her tea and allowed the tension to raise a bit. "Everything I said was true. Don't pout, Harry, it's unbecoming," she added seeing Harry's expression.

"I only thought…" he hesitated, his face sad.

"Of course you won't go back. I told Albus that Ted and I will go on a little vacation. Perhaps Sirius forgot to tell you that he organized it. We won't be all alone, however. A fluffy black dog and a young man will accompany us, together with his girlfriend and her parents."

"You'll take Sirius and I…" realizing the last bit of her statement, Harry stalled and blushed brightly. "'Mione isn't my girlfriend. She's only a friend, my best friend together with Ron."

"Oh, sorry, my fault," Andy mocked. "So you have the same feelings towards Ron and her?" She asked, hiding her grin behind her mug.

"You're evil," Harry pouted.

"You're welcome," Andy grinned.

.

_**London**_

.

"Ma'am, that's not possible," the man declared, gulping as he waited for her reaction. It was a rare sight to have a lady like her stomping into his office and he had the feeling she wasn't one he wanted to mess with. As she reached into her bag, he half expected her to draw a gun on him. _Why_, he wondered. _Why did it have to be me_? His eyes widened as the lady in black pulled a bundle of bank notes from her bag and put it in front of him. He guessed it was around 50,000 pounds.

"This is your bonus if the work starts within the next two days."

John W. Grisham, called Jock by his business friends, hadn't gotten where he was now without a keen business sense and an elastic conscience. This lady was at a pinch but he didn't believe it to be a legal one. She had promised that everything in her proposal was legal and he believed her. He expected it to be more of a "birthday present" king of pinch. Or a divorce pinch, he corrected himself, thinking about the nature of her proposal.

"Double that and we have a deal."

Without blinking she pulled another bundle from her back, adding a third, smaller one to the welcome sight. "There is a small condition…"

.

_**Grimmauld Place 12**_

.

"I can't look." Hermione hid into Harry's shoulder, not noticing the amused look of her mother Beatrice and Andromeda Tonks. Both women had offered to help and were eager to watch the wonder of Grimmauld Place now. The help of Dobby had been invaluable. To clear out a whole house within two days had been exhausting to say the least. They had decided on this course of action after Albus' visit, as Andy feared the headmaster's reactions should he discover their plans – perhaps after hearing about Sirius' trial. Amelia Bones had to inform him of it in two days at most and the shit would then start to hit the fan. Doing this however would create an irrevocable situation and Albus would have no chance to force Sirius or Harry back into their hated "homes".

_You have to understand, Albus_, Andy thought with a mock grin. _It's for the Greater Good_.

Most things would be left behind to be smashed with the house around them, taken away with the rubble they intended to create this afternoon. A number of book crates had been delivered to the Granger house while the bulk went to Sirius' vault until he found a new place to live. Kreacher had been in tears when Sirius allowed him to keep his mother's painting – not that Sirius felt any urge to keep it himself – and a number of things from Regulus. To clean his brother's room had been heart-breaking for him and only increased the hate he felt towards his mother and Voldemort another notch.

Andy brought Beatrice' attention to her daughter Dora, who was fruitlessly trying to calm down "Ted Tonks". Her "husband" behaved like a toddler on sugar rush. Perhaps it hadn't been such a splendid idea to add her little condition to the deal with the demolition contractor. It had been Cullen's idea actually, only the young Templar meant to put a heavy hammer or axe in Sirius' hand to allow him some part in destroying the house that had the home of his family for generations.

Because it was Sirius under Polyjuice, and not Ted, standing over there, barely able to concentrate on the explanations of the crane operator. It had been tricky but possible to get a crane and operator in reach of the house. She had chosen that one contractor especially for this job because they had a squib driver among their crew – a detail Dora found in the DMLE's squib list, a list most wizards didn't know about, luckily. It was completely illegal to use the list in this way but after all who would be hurt? Pushing a slip of paper with the address in his face had been enough to get him running – that and another 1,000 pounds to endure Sirius.

"I hope he knows what he's doing," Beatrice whispered.

Andy cackled. "I hope WE know what we're doing." Her eyes rested on the massive steel ball. In a few minutes it would crash into the house, break wood and stone as well as the wards around the house. In a few minutes the house would be gone and the neighbours would remember again that there was a No. 12, had always been a No. 12. The rest could wait and be done over the next weeks, but this had to go fast and thoroughly.

_Only a few more minutes_, Andy sighed_. I hope everything is going well with Cullen_.

.

_**Privet Drive 4**_

.

"I won't leave."

Sitting in his television chair, arms crossed over his fat chest, Vernon Dursley reminded Petunia of a pouting child. _Did she want Dudley to grow up like this_? Petunia wasn't certain anymore. _Perhaps I should accept Mr. Tonks' offer_, she mused.

Ted Tonks – the real Ted – had accompanied Cullen and the house-elf Kreacher today like the days before. The adoration in Kreacher's eyes every time he looked at the young Templar was still too much for Ted to grasp. The few times in the past he had met the grumpy, racist, house-elf hadn't been pleasant. Kreacher still couldn't be called cordial, but he was nearly polite now. And his help had been… yeah, helpful.

"I still don't understand why we have to leave the house," Vernon pouted. Luckily he was the only one, Petunia as well as Dudley had been far easier to convince. It certainly helped that Harry had offered them quite a bit of money, both to move into their new home as well as taking a vacation to allow a working crew to remove their things and prepare everything for their return.

"I'll tear the wards down," Cullen explained, Ted silently praising the young man's patience. "After that you won't be safe anymore at this house. Harry's enemies will be able to find the house."

"They're Harry's enemies, not mine," Vernon's pout intensified.

"He saved my life, Dad," Dudley reminded him. He still felt bad about the past, the "Harry hunting", a torture Harry repaid by saving his life or at least his mind back in that dark alley. Dudley still shuddered thinking about the Dementors coming for him.

"It was his fault that you were in danger," Vernon growled. "That freak…"

"Don't call him that," Petunia reprimanded him, astonishing nobody more than herself with her honest reaction. "And it's hardly his fault that some maniac first killed his parents and now tries to kill him. He did nothing wrong." The last words were whispered. Petunia had gone a long way since her talk with Harry and while she didn't expect him to ever forgive and forget about the past, she hoped that he had it in him to one day be real family again. They had exchanged quite a few letters since then, with Hedwig slowly warming to her. The first times she had picked at Petunia's fingers; _something she certainly deserved_, Petunia mused.

Irrespective of how Harry felt about his "family" at the moment, his enemies would simply kill them off – fast, if they were lucky. It was a simple fact Vernon wasn't willing to grasp so far.

Now Petunia was glaring at her unrepentant husband, unable or unwilling to accept the danger he was putting his family in. Ted Tonks had offered her to get through a divorce, not because of this behaviour but because Petunia came to realize that Vernon wasn't good for her and her son. The thought of raising her son properly, to eliminate the errors of the past, getting back to be Petunia Evans and allowing Dudley to change his name into something not so… disgusting… had its allure. She wasn't ready to do that but with Vernon behaving like this, it was only a question of time. That Harry promised to support her in the future, should she want to stay home or restart her studies, was a welcome bonus. _Vernon would never allow me to do that_.

"Please begin, Cullen," she demanded with a low voice, leaving the house with Dudley at her side.

Cullen only nodded and went to work.

_Let's get started_, Ted grinned. _This will be funny_.

.

_**Grimmauld Place**_

.

"The Fidelius Charm is down," Andromeda calmly announced to the rest of the little group. It had lasted long enough, proof of how powerful a wizard Albus still was. Like a toddler with a new toy, Sirius had used the wrecking ball to tear down his old house, the operator at his side ageing one year a minute by only watching him. The Fidelius however only crumbled now, as most of the house was put to pieces. Sirius had just started to speak with his neighbours – who now remembered him and "that there had always been a No. 12", explaining what he intended to do. Making some weird Feng Shui explanations – really a cover up for a number of cleansing rituals that Bill Weasley and Cullen intended to perform – he told them about the playing ground that soon would be there.

Andy rolled her eyes thinking about the long discussion between Hermione and Sirius. While her cousin wanted to have something "exciting" – Andy got the creeps thinking about what kind of place a Marauder would think of to be exciting – Hermione had demanded to get as much security measures on the place as possible. In the end Beatrice Granger had found a compromise and soon there would be a place for little children, some structures for climbing and a romantic pavilion at the far end. Bill would place a number of wards on the whole place, protecting it against accidents and the visits of drug addicts and alcoholics. While Beatrice was as open-minded as her daughter, she didn't assume the mothers of playing children would be amused about discarded booze bottles and one-way syringes in the sandbox.

_Perhaps you could do the same at the playing ground in our neighbourhood, Bill, Beatrice had asked sweetly. You know, the playing ground where little Hermione had been running around._

Hermione had blushed deeply, but Harry had been interested to hear more about it, getting agitated when Hermione let slip a story about some not so nice encounter back then, when some of her primary school classmates had harassed her. Nobody was allowed to harass _his_ 'Mione.

"What are you doing, Mione?" _Harry is the only one she allows to use a nick name_, Andy noticed suddenly.

"Counting… 80… 85… 90," she snapped her fingers and pointed towards an archway not far away. Nothing was there to be seen, causing Hermione to frown.

"What's over there?"

"The apparition point he usually…" She stopped and grinned haughtily as a trio arrived at the archway. "Later than I expected," Hermione commented the arrival of Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall and Filius Flitwick. Filius instantly put a notice-me-not charm on himself, doing the same on Albus a moment later. With that sheer amount of colours and frippery on his body he would stir more attention than the part-Goblin.

"He's getting old," Harry shrugged, watching his headmaster getting closer.

"Harry, my boy, you shouldn't…" Albus started, completely ignoring the women for now.

"Hello to you, too, Headmaster," Beatrice Granger interrupted him with a glare. She hated rude people. Hadn't his mother told him to always greet first – especially with ladies around – before starting to… whatever?

Albus blinked, while Filius and Minerva did nothing to hide their smirks. "Oh, Mrs. Granger I assume?" He made a show of not knowing her and comparing her to her daughter. A bit late he tried to show manners. It didn't impress Beatrice in the slightest.

"As if you didn't know, Headmaster." Beatrice sneered, answering her daughter's unspoken question: "with you lurking around our house two years ago and again last summer." Albus actually blushed a bit.

"Why should…"

"Didn't you tell me about his orders about not to write Harry back then?" Hermione nodded, still uneasy that she had listened to the headmaster's command back then. "Perhaps he wanted to make sure that you obeyed his silly orders."

"It was for the best…"

"Pish-posh. Harry needed his friend, especially last summer." Beatrice wanted nothing of that nonsense.

"Why didn't you tell me, Mum?"

"We didn't want to trouble you. Dad and I knew how much you trusted your teachers." She glared at the trio. "Something they worked hard to change over the years." Minerva and Filius had the decency to blush. "By the way, Headmaster, when did you intend to tell us that my husband is a squib?"

It was a stab in the dark, but Albus' reaction was telling enough: he had known.

"Dad is a…"

"A squib, yes," Beatrice nodded, not taking her eyes away from the headmaster. "Cullen told me. Interesting, isn't it?" She continued to glare. "Every time you were 'ill' at Hogwarts, Dad could have visited you. The anti-Muggle wards wouldn't affect him." Her face softened a bit: "he so wanted to be there with you during the third task, supporting you, knowing how much it would tear you down not to be able to do anything else than watch and wait."

"I would have loved to have him at my side," Hermione admitted. Neville and Ginny had done their best to calm her down but her father would have been far better to have at her side.

"Cullen has been speaking with me about ways to change the wards around Hogwarts," Filius interjected. "He wants to allow the parents of Muggleborn to visit the school in special cases."

"That would be splendid," Beatrice hummed happily.

"He should have spoken with me about that first," Albus admonished, his eyes twinkling in rage.

Filius simply shrugged. "Perhaps he expected you wouldn't be interested in the matter, not after being headmaster for decades without changing that detail. And actually: the decision isn't yours anymore as it is outside of your field of duties."

Albus straightened his posture: "I'm still the Headmaster of Hogwarts."

"And Cullen is the Steward of Hogwarts. Decisions about security and guests ultimately belong to him. Lady Hogwarts apparently believed you have failed in that matter in the past. As do I," he added after a moment.

_Cullen again_, Albus groaned inwardly. _He turned into a real nuisance very quickly,_ _now he's even turning the staff against me._ "Let's speak about something different," he tried to change the topic, smiling grand-fatherly which impressed absolutely nobody. "My instruments told me…"

"That the Fidelius has fallen," Andy interrupted with a broad smirk and pointed towards the house no. 12 – or better at the empty space where house no. 12 had been not too long ago. Only a heap of brick stones told of it anymore.

"Are you alright, headmaster?" Beatrice asked with mock concern. Albus stared at the demolition place with wide eyes, as if he would get a stroke anytime soon.

"I really like your mother," Harry whispered into Hermione's ear with a mischievous grin.

"Good to hear," she responded, "as you'll have to spend some time with us this month – with her and my father." Hermione grinned as Harry paled a bit. Ben Granger still intimidated him. He was always watching Harry very closely if he was around his daughter.

Minerva however had stepped at Andy's side and was thoughtfully watching Sirius, who was speaking with his neighbours in an agitated way, gesturing broadly and pointing here and there. "He looks happier," Minerva commented, feeling better herself after months and months of watching Sirius getting more depressed at every meeting of the order.

"He is happier," Andy agreed. "Cullen demanded the house as payment for the life debt, and asked to pull it down because of the 'dark aura' surrounding it." Minerva looked confused, earning her a shrug from Andy. "Whatever he meant: it was certainly one of his better ideas to tear it down."

"You… it… house…" Albus stuttered. For most it was a first to see him this helplessly struggling for words. He had hardly a moment to recover before Cullen appeared at their side. After escorting him to Grimmauld Place, he sent Ted home as two Teds at the same place would be a tad confusing and even a notice me not charm wouldn't be enough for Kreacher with the amount of people around.

"It's done," he announced simply. Ignoring Albus' look – a mix of confusion and rage – Cullen continued: "the wards are down and your aunt and cousin left the house. Your dear uncle wasn't willing to listen."

Harry shrugged without remorse: "it's his decision – his life."

"What are you talking about?" Albus demanded to know.

"I tore down the wards around Privet Drive 4," Cullen explained to Albus' utter horror. "Harry won't return there."

"Thank Merlin!" Was Minerva's only and completely honest reaction, something that improved her standing with the Granger women quite a notch and earned her a glare from Albus as well as a chuckle from Filius. He had endured Minerva's ramblings about Harry's "home sweet home" often enough in the past.

"But they were for Harry's protection, for his family's protection."

"They have never been my family," Harry snarked. After a moment of thinking about it, he added: "perhaps now we'll have a chance to become one."

"Perhaps you could talk with Vernon Dursley, Headmaster" Cullen suggested. "He wasn't willing to see reason. And influencing his mind should be more along your talent."

Minerva glared – however with her glare directed at Albus it seemed like she shared the opinion.

"What are you talking about?" Albus demanded to know.

"The blood wards you used," Minerva gasped at the explanation. "They were tearing down the layer protecting the house from the fade. Demons were gathering around the house, influencing the emotions of the inhabitants."

"Rubbish!" Albus commented haughtily. He knew better, did he not? "There aren't…"

"Only because you don't know about them doesn't mean that they don't exist." Hermione and Harry wondered for a moment if Cullen wouldn't be the right man for Luna with thoughts like this. He would never belittle her for believing in crumple-whatever. "I heard you're opposed to dark magic, Headmaster, an opinion I share. Because of this I had difficulties to understand that you forced Sirius to stay in a house filled with dark magic or used it to protect Harry. Blood magic isn't only dark; it's influencing the emotions of those around it. It's a slow, corrupting effect, but it's very real."

"Whatever," Harry stopped the discussion. "They're down. My aunt and cousin have a chance to be happy and I'll stay with Sirius from now on – somewhere away from this dark place." He laced hands with Hermione, a gesture not going unnoticed by the adults. Most of them were smiling – most, but not all.

"Harry," Albus tried to talk reason. "Sirius is still a wanted man. Until we…"

"Not for long at last," Andy stopped his rambling. It had been funny to watch Albus this… constipated. However, she was exhausted and wanted to go home. Knowing Sirius, he would need a few hours to calm down anyhow.

"Madam Bones will certainly inform you very soon," Harry stepped in, "about the trial – you know: the trial that wasn't possible to enforce for more than a decade, Sirius' trial." Albus wanted to ask something but Harry stopped him with a determined gesture. "Cullen and Aunt Andy," Andromeda Tonks smiled at his use of the nickname "caught Pettigrew a few days ago."

"Yes," Filius air-punched and Minerva was unable to stop smiling. Only Albus looked a tad sad.

"I have no doubt that he'll be proven innocent." Harry narrowed his eyes and hissed: "Miss Skeeter has been harassing me for weeks about an interview. So far I avoided her. Should 'somebody' try to mess with the trial in any way, trying to stir it away from the sole possible outcome, I'll accept her offer. How many pages do you think Miss Skeeter will reserve for my story about my childhood and everything else?"

Albus paled, thinking about the ramifications.

"Especially when Harry announces that he'll drag along the mysterious new steward of Hogwarts and the infamous Sirius Black?" Hermione put another nail in his coffin.

"That won't be necessary," Albus gulped hoarsely.

"Good, please see that it won't."

.

_**Ministry of Magic – Department of Mysteries – two weeks later**_

.

"Please have a seat."

Croaker smiled softly as he watched Cullen pull a seat for Andy Tonks before sitting down himself. It was nice to know there were still young gentlemen with manners around.

Unknown to Croaker, Andy had returned only this morning to accompany Cullen to this meeting. He felt a tad uneasy about it and Andy had taken something to a motherly role in his life since their first meeting. He trusted her and liked to banter with her – and flirt a bit, mostly from her side and purely to make him blush. She would return later to her husband as well as Harry and his family.

Family – Andy loved to think of the Grangers and Sirius as Harry's family. Petunia and Dudley were exchanging letters with him but trust and forgiveness needed time to bloom. Beatrice, in particular, was someone Harry direly needed in his life at this point and luckily she was more than willing to step in. They had departed together the day after Sirius' trial – a trial that went surprisingly smoothly despite the death glares Albus sent Cullen's way. _He really doesn't like him right now_, Andy mused. Hopefully he'll get over it soon. In her opinion Cullen and Albus had to cooperate in this war. They needed each other, and hopefully they would realize that soon. With Pettigrew admitting everything under Veritaserum and Sirius offering a number of memories to be watched, it had only been a formality to prove him innocent and sent Pettigrew to Azkaban. The veil hadn't been an option as it still was under heavy investigation.

Rome, Crete, Sicily, Pompei – the list of the places Hermione wanted to see went on and on. With a bit of house-elf magic it was no problem to change places every other day and Harry had been incredibly patient with Hermione's enthusiasm so far. It certainly helped a bit that Sirius was only willing to allow her to bring along a score of books after she promised to spend some time at the beach reading them. Only far later did Hermione realize that the beach meant wearing a bathing suit. Harry's open-mouth adoration after seeing her for the first time in a fitting bikini – far too tame in Sirius' mind and needing at least another two square foot of cloth in Ben's fatherly opinion – had done wonders to her self-esteem. The scar on her lower chest was barely visible now and Hermione had told herself to thank Cullen again for this after her return. She didn't know that Harry intended to do the same.

"You don't look too well," Croaker scowled at Cullen and Andy silently agreed with that. "Do you think it's a reaction of you being here?"

"No," Cullen said softly. He hadn't been well for a few days and he knew the reason. "Or in a way: yes. It's more a result of not being at home, not having my usual… let's say 'diet'."

"Do you need special nutrients?"

Cullen put a small vial on his table, a vial half-filled with a blue shimmering fluid. "That's a Lyrium potion. It's something my order uses regularly. Because I had only a small number of these vials in my bags on my… my departure… I decided to stop using them."

"If I didn't know better," Croaker commented, eying the vial warily "I'd say you've signs of withdrawal."

"I fear you're right about that," Cullen nodded.

"Why would your order…"

"Enhancement and dependence," Cullen stated far calmer than he felt. "Lyrium enhances our abilities. Drinking such a vial would give me a short-termed boost and more than triple my power." Croaker paled. He had heard enough about this young man stunning a quintet of Unspeakables with a single 'spell'. Tripling that would be… interesting to watch. "And it makes us dependant. Dependency equals control," Cullen continued. "There have been rumours about that part, but it was mostly hush-hush. Apparently the rumours were right."

"And what will you do now?" Andy asked softly. She fumed inwardly about the impertinence to force young men and women – men and women that as far as she understood decided to put their own lives into the service of their beliefs and community – into addiction. Regretfully – or luckily – she had no chance to speak with the culprits and give them a word or two, accompanied by more than a few hexes.

Cullen sighed. "I've been lucky. I have only been getting Lyrium for abound two years and I hadn't been promoted yet. Next year I was expected to become Templar-Sergeant which goes hand in hand with a higher dosage. So far the withdrawal is distracting but not too painful. I'll try to get rid of it as soon as possible. However I wanted to beg you to have a look at it and tell me if something similar is known over here."

"I don't think I've ever seen something similar but I'll examine it."

"Good," Cullen leant back looking a tad exhausted. "However, we didn't visit you to speak about my health."

"No," Croaker nodded. He liked Cullen's no-nonsense attitude and lack of whining. He put the destroyed locket on the table. "Let's speak about Horcruxes and the dangers of open portals."

.

_**Longbottom Manor – 1 AM on the 31**__**st**__** of June**_

.

"Sixteen," Neville whispered, holding tight to his glass of punch.

"Yeah, I still can't believe it," Harry agreed, sitting across of him in a very comfortable seat overlooking the Longbottom winter garden.

After returning from their Mediterranean vacation, they had agreed upon a small family gathering tonight to celebrate Neville and Harry's sixteenth birthday. Tomorrow they would continue with a much bigger party at the Burrow, including a dozen Weasleys, wild games and certainly a Quidditch game or two, but tonight was time for calm contemplation – as calm as possible with Sirius Black around.

They had invited the Tonks, Remus and the Grangers too. Hermione was dozing on a couch not far away, looking very cute in her sleep, very tanned legs showing under her skirt. "She turned into a real beauty this summer," Neville whispered with a knowing look.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. It was difficult not to see her as a girl anymore, not after those days with her wearing a bikini.

"Are you an item now?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I haven't spoken with her about that. She has been my friend for so long. What if she doesn't reciprocate my feelings? What if it doesn't work? I can't lose her."

"You won't. She will always be your friend, Harry. That will never change." After a moment he asked warily. "What about Ginny?" Ginny Weasley and her brother had returned the day before but went to their family and would be present at the bigger party, while Luna and her father continued to search for… something… somewhere.

"I think she got over her crush on me."

"Do you regret it?"

"No," Harry shook his head. "It got a tad awkward in the end. I think she started to see the real me and while we still want to be friends, she accepted I'm not her Prince Charming." He smirked: "the path is open now for you, Neville."

"Was I that obvious?" Neville sighed.

"Yeah, since your dance with her at the Yule Ball. I wish you all the best."

"Thanks, Harry. Hopefully Molly will be as open about it. You know: she planned your dream wedding with Ginny years ago."

Harry snickered. "She'll get over it."

.

"I really like the picture."

"Thank you, Andy," Cullen gracefully accepted Andy's compliment. The picture she was speaking about was a charcoal drawing he had created for Harry, showing a wonderful look from the Circle Tower over Sea Calenhad.

"I only wished the tools had gotten better."

"Neville still appreciated them, I'm certain," Andy soothed him. Cullen, who had spent the last weeks mostly at Longbottom Manor, had used the small smithy – a relic from one Aloysius Longbottom, a great-great insert a few more greats grandfather of Neville – to create a number of garden tools for his use. The set of little knives and spatulas for finer plant works had proven another artistic talent of the ever-surprising young man. Andy suspected that it was a first dry run to craft something very different for a very special girl. At least Cullen buying some silver ingots and asking about her next birthday hinted at that.

"Everything went well since our departure?" Andy wanted to know.

"Yes, I'm content. Bill told me that the wards around the Granger house are ready, as well as those around Petunia's new home. Next month he'll start with those at Grimmauld Place. You wouldn't recognize the place now," Cullen grinned. "There is nothing left of the house. The Pavilion and the playing ground are nearly finished and the gardener will start his work in a week or two."

"And your… your cleansing?" Andy, despite not really understanding all those statements and explanations about dark aura and thin layers to the Fade, was far more supportive of Cullen's need to rectify the situation than Albus.

"It went alright," Cullen shrugged. "The place is better now. However it will need a few years of happy children running around to permanently change it. It will be a better place now."

"I'm sure it will," Andy agreed. _Hopefully, I will be there when Sirius officially opens the place_, Andy mused with a smile. _I really want to see Nymphadora's face realizing that he named the place after her_.

.

"Harry?"

Harry woke up from his slumber to see Augusta Longbottom with a Goblin at her side. He needed a moment to realize that it was actually a female Goblin, the first one he ever saw and a very old one to add. Hastily he stood up.

"May I introduce to you: Lady Ironsides, Chief Accountant at Gringotts."

"Happy to meet you," Harry bowed slightly. _Why didn't he listen last time to Hermione's explanations about Goblin etiquette?_ To his relief, Lady Ironsides actually seemed to be quite happy about his manners. This _lets me wonder how she has been treated by other wizards in the past_.

"I didn't want to disturb you," the gnarly Goblin lady started "but Mister Weasley told me about your return and I assumed you would like to get your birthday present in this calmer situation instead of tomorrow's turmoil."

Harry blinked. _Why would_…? Neville nudged him with his elbow and Harry startled. "Oh, yes, thank you very much." Now he noticed the small package she had in her little hands.

"The present… or better presents… come along with an apology. You have to know that your mother was a dear business friend of mine. While the day to day business was handled by others, we had a few meetings about her plans to start a Muggleborn helping trust. She wanted to help the families of other Muggleborns in their interactions with the magical world and their magical life. Perhaps we could speak about those plans at another time. I always regretted that she died before they came to fruition."

Harry felt flabbergasted. This was one legacy he hadn't expected, a legacy he would love to continue. "I would love to… and Hermione… I mean Miss Granger… certainly too." He gestured towards Hermione, who was watching the conversation eagerly and commented his statement with a broad smile.

"Ah, the famous Miss Granger," Ironsides grinned a toothy grinned, prompting Hermione to blush. "Mister Weasley mentioned her once or twice. But back to business." She pushed the package into Harry's hands. "This actually isn't a present of mine but of your mother, Mister Potter. As far as I know it contains a number of letters, pictures and small gimmicks meant for you. She wanted you to get them on your birthdays, starting on your eleventh birthday; however your former magical guardian," she actually sneered "forbid me to interact directly with you. He told me some bull about not wanting to upset you." Her voice got surprisingly soft and passionate. "Your mother entrusted them to my care and I didn't want to deliver them via anybody else. I hope you can forgive me."

"There is nothing to forgive," Harry responded hoarsely. "Thank you very much. This means so much to me." He felt Hermione putting an arm around his waist and promised himself two things: he would spend a quiet afternoon with Hermione opening the presents. And he would spend a loud afternoon with a meddling, well-meaning headmaster.

.

_**A/N**_

_I hope you like my approach of "Albus-I-know-best-Dumbledore". At the moment he's not very happy and he'll need a few more nudges to actually change._

_Ironsides is one of my favourite OCs, she simply had to make an appearance in this story (there will be a second one later). _

_Next time: Cullen's plan to help Harry, helping the Malfoys and Luna's return._


	6. Chapter 6 To be a Pawn

_**A/N**_

_Regretfully, this chapter turned out to be far longer than expected. Because of this you'll see Luna in the next chapter only, not today._

**.**

**To be a Pawn**

.

_**Malfoy Manor**_

.

_Two weeks, the snake-like voice hissed. You have two weeks to make your decision, young Malfoy, whether you want accept this honorific task or you die as a blood-traitor. Choose wisely._

.

Was it really a choice when the only alternative was his death? Draco Malfoy wasn't able to deceive himself: either he accepted the 'chance' or not. Either he got branded like cattle, got the Dark Mark and made his political choice official. Or he declined, settled for the fall of House Malfoy and accepted the repercussions.

Repercussion was a nice word for damning his father to Azkaban, his mother to torture and rape and himself to a very painful death. The Dark Lord had promised to free those Death Eaters from Azkaban who had been imprisoned after the Ministry debacle. If he declined this task, his father would accidentally be 'forgotten'. His mother would pay for the sins of her husband and son, with even her own sister unwilling to step in and protect her.

_Bella is crazy, absolutely crazy_, Draco thought. _How can I be related to her_?

The Dark Lord had already used more than one Crucio on Narcissa Malfoy, simply to make a statement and show Draco how serious he was about the whole matter. Draco was not stupid: until now the Dark Lord had been comparatively patient. He only spared Draco's life so far because he was the Scion of House Malfoy and insofar valuable to his cause, if only as a money cow. As soon as he realized that Draco wouldn't join his ranks, his patience would run out.

_How could I kill the Headmaster? How could I kill anybody?_

He feared Dumbledore, and rightly so. A man feared, or at least respected, by the Dark Lord himself was nobody a teenager wanted to mess with. Despite all insults tossed towards Scarhead and Beavertooth, Draco knew that he had neither Potter's raw talent and power nor the intellect and knowledge of Granger. Even those two wouldn't stand a chance against Dumbledore, so how could he? And even if he could, Draco didn't want to kill him. He didn't want to kill anybody. His eagerness to insult others aside, his willingness to proof the pureblood superiority and his wish to see Potter and his little friends fall: there was a line he wasn't willing to cross. It was one thing to enlarge Granger's teeth with a curse or make Weasel vomit slugs. It was something completely different to maim and to kill.

_He wants me to die. Draco sobbed. He wants to put me against Dumbledore and have me die to punish my father. _

And the worst? His plan would work. His father would regret the death of his son. Perhaps he would grief – for a while. But in the end he would accept the story of his son failing – again – and dying in the attempt. We would return to his master's side and continue working for him.

_He'll forget me. He'll write me off as a failure and go on with his life._

Contrary to his mother, Lucius Malfoy never saw him as his son first. He was always only the Scion of House Malfoy, the successor he had to train and shape to bring honour to his house. There was never praise, only scolding if he dared to fail, even being second to Granger in any subject was seen as an embarrassing failure in his father's eyes.

_Mother,_ Draco thought. _She's different. She actually loves me._

Right now she was sitting at his side, calm, reassuring; waiting for him to finish throwing up into the sink. She was the reason he even thought about accepting this impossible task. He wanted to protect her even if it ended up destroying him.

"I have to do this, mother," he whispered, the pain palatable in his voice. "I have to accept."

Narcissa Malfoy was watching her son closely. She knew the thoughts running through his head, knew how much he hated this situation, the fear he felt and why he wanted to try it at least. She couldn't accept this. She couldn't watch him as he destroyed his own soul. A few weeks ago, there wouldn't have been a choice. Despite this tearing her heart apart, she would have had to accept Draco's fate. But not anymore. A new player had entered the playing ground, a player willing and able to change everything.

_It's your choice_, he had told her.

And choose she would.

.

_**Gringotts – Back room**_

.

"Why are we here?" Argus Filch demanded to know, his voice irritated but firm. The caretaker of Hogwarts wasn't a likable or polite man in the best of days and today he felt a fit of arthritis in his bones. Argus glanced around. At least there was only one goblin present, a very old female one. He didn't like Goblins very much, too inhuman. His view of other races had softened somewhat over the course of the last school year – having to watch and listen to the dumb shit of Dolores Umbridge did that to a man – but he still wouldn't invite Firenze – the new divination teacher at Hogwarts and a Centaur to boost – to a tea party, and neither would he invite a Goblin.

"I'm sure he'll tell us in a minute," a man in his thirties responded with a shrug. Argus didn't have to hear his name to realize this one was a Black. Surprising was only the fact that he didn't recognize him. All Blacks went to Hogwarts and he should know every Black under the age of 60. The man politely greeted the two present women with a kiss on the hand, making Arabella Figg smile wistfully and Petunia Dursley faintly blush. He even moved to do the same with the Goblin but her smile – actually frighteningly barred teeth – convinced him otherwise.

"Greetings, Mister Black," the Golbin rumbled. It was her first sentence since Argus had entered the room and it reminded him of an avalanche in snowy mountains. _So, he's really a Black. He looks akin to the Black Brothers_.

"Greetings, Lady Ironsides," Marius Black bowed. The motion was executed far deeper than he would act towards any pureblood wizard, something the elderly lady apparently noticed.

"Ah, I see, everybody there already," a young voice announced from the entrance. "Good, good, then let's start. I assume we all have things to do." _Steward Cullen_, Argus immediately stood up and bowed slightly. It was the polite thing to do and the young man had gone out of his way over the last weeks to get to know him. While Albus and most other staff members were polite most of the time, it was a patronizing politeness, letting him feel that they would always be superior to him. Steward Cullen on the other hand treated him like an equal. He often asked for Argus' opinion and while they rarely agreed over anything, Cullen always took him seriously and thought about Argus' comments before declining them. The most important point however was that they shared a bound through their dedication to the school. Cullen had been the first one to realize that only a man of deep dedication would be able to stand the belittling and insults over the years. Perhaps they had different opinions about how to achieve it, but both wanted Hogwarts to be the best school around the world. And in one matter they completely shared an opinion: no more three-headed dogs, basilisks, dragons or Blast-Ended Skrewts.

Two men were accompanying Steward Cullen into the room, one he was vaguely acquainted with, the other one a Muggleborn, apparently. The first one went over to Lady Ironsides while the last one, together with Cullen, took one of the six seats that were arranged around a table.

"Please have a seat," Cullen gestured. "First: the introduction."

"Arabella Figg". He knew her, she somehow worked for the Headmaster.

"Petunia Dursley." Wasn't she Potter's aunt or something?

"Argus Filch." He bowed slightly, but less than when he had greeted Cullen.

"Benjamin Granger." Granger? Perhaps a relative of that Muggleborn witch that could always be found around Potter.

"Marius Black". He should have realized. There had been stories about his family tree being disowned two generations ago. _A squib like me_, Argus mused darkly.

"Lady Ironsides and Unspeakable Croaker are here as observers." _An Unspeakable_, Filch narrowed his eyes. He didn't like those. Allegedly they belonged to the best among wizards but still they hadn't been able – or willing, as was certainly truer – to help him when he wrote them about his problems learning Kwikspell.

"Let us begin."

.

The next hour belonged to the most frightening and disturbing Argus Filch had ever the displeasure of experiencing.

"Immortal?" He asked hoarsely. "That bastard is immortal?"

Perhaps the others were a tad shocked to hear his opinion about Voldemort, an opinion uttered in pure hate, but he had his reasons. He had watched the events of the last war a decade ago. Many fights had erupted in the corridors of Hogwarts, fights mostly instigated by young racist purebloods. Far too many Muggleborn students he had met at Hogwarts died in the war. Far too often a young, snotty pureblood dared to insult or even threaten him while being in detention. Argus knew he wouldn't survive for long with Voldemort in charge of the school. For a few years there had been peace, but not long enough to forget this madness.

And then there was the day of the third task. He didn't like young Potter very much, he was too much like his father in causing trouble. But Argus never doubted his story about Voldemort's return. There was too much honest terror in his eyes as he cradled the dead body of Cedric Diggory in his arms, one of the few pureblood teenagers that had never in his whole time at Hogwarts created any kind of trouble for anyone, a young man that obviously cared for younger students and had always been polite to him. _What a loss it had been_, Argus mused. With Voldemort's reappearance returned his fears too. Last year, with his obedience to Dolores Umbridge and her Inquisitorial Squad, had been a bad year, a year where he acted mostly out of self-preservation. He more than once had he hated himself for his weakness. He tried to convince himself that not all was bad. Feeling ill he remembered his own remarks about "returning to the good old days with whips and shackles". That the students had believed his ramblings only told him what they really thought about him.

_And now he wasn't only back but immortal too._

"Yes," Cullen gestured towards two objects that rested on the table, both damaged beyond repair but still giving him the creeps. "He created these two objects. The book has been the reason of young Miss Ginny letting loose a Basilisk at Hogwarts three years ago, against her will I have to add."

Argus felt hate rise in his heart. The basilisk had nearly killed his cat. The rumour about Potter killing the beast was one of the few reasons he was willing to forgive him all the trouble he had caused in the past.

"The locket, we found this summer and destroyed."

Argus felt there was more behind the story and was convinced the young man had more than a small part in it. His opinion was only improved another notch.

"Both objects contained a sliver of Voldemort's soul, a sliver that is destroyed now, weakening him and diminishing his immortality. There is however at least another Horcrux out there and I need your help to destroy it – to destroy it without destroying its 'container', because you have to know this: the third object is actually a person."

"Harry," Benjamin Granger's voice was barely a whisper. "You mean Harry. The scar…"

"Yes, young Mister Potter's scar is such an object, created when Voldemort killed his parents. Whether it was done as an accident or on purpose, we'll never know. But that doesn't change the fact: it's a Horcrux and we have to destroy it without killing Harry."

.

_Do I want this?_ Argus wondered. _Do I want to learn this?_

Steward Cullen had explained his plan, and why it had to be them. They all were Squibs, in the end it was that simple. Apparently only Squibs had a chance of learning this special skill he wanted to train them in. Yes, there was the part too about Cullen trusting them and "all of you have a reason to do this" but in the end it came back to the simple fact: they were Squibs.

_It's funny, isn't it?_ Argus laughed uneasily. _My whole life I have been mocked for a thing I could do nothing about. My family disowned me. I'm unmarried and despised. And now he offers me a chance, a totally weird and unexpected chance, to redeem myself and do something important because of it_. Argus glanced around. Black wanted to do it because Sirius Black was Potter's godfather – that and because he owned Sirius something for allowing him back into the family, something he did without having any kind of reimbursement in mind. _Perhaps Sirius Black has indeed changed since his Hogwarts days_.

Arabella was simply a caring woman who liked the boy. She, like that Dursley woman, obviously had something to repay to the boy as well. Granger would try it for his daughter mostly. This left him, Argus Filch.

"I'll need at least three of you for the ritual, more would be better, especially because I am not completely certain that all of you will be able to learn the ritual."

Cullen wanted to train them in the Song of Light, as he called it. Apparently it was one of the first things young Templars learned in his home country, something very basic that allowed them to share… share what? Their magic? Souls? Belief?

"It will also tell me if you have the talent to learn more."

That had been a point of interest for Argus too. _It's not magic_, he mused, _but similar enough_. He had witnessed how Cullen caused young Malfoy to bow to his might. If nothing else he would like that power. He feared a bit that he would abuse such a power should he possess it, but Cullen apparently thought otherwise. He had agreed to teach him more, him and Black, should they show any talent for it. Arabella felt too old for that and Petunia wanted to leave the magical world as soon as possible. Both – as well as Granger – would only learn this one thing to help Potter.

_He has enough helpers already_, Argus thought. _He doesn't need me anymore, but he still wants me in this_.

It was this point that convinced him in the end: Cullen's honest wish to have him part of this, to be important and do something instead of hiding, cowering as the war waged on.

_I'm a man and not a mouse._

"I'm in."

.

_**Interlude: Hogwarts – Headmaster's Office**_

.

"How could you do this to me?" Harry hissed, stalking around in Albus office like he owned the place.

_Hopefully he doesn't trash the place – again_; Albus thought, feeling a tad annoyed about the boy's lack of self-control.

"How could you take this away from me? Haven't I endured enough in the past?" While his eyes got teary, his face was an expression of hot rage. Without Cullen's teaching, the last restraints would already have fallen. "It was my inheritance. You had no right to withhold it."

"You're right," Albus agreed in his soft grandfatherly voice. "You did enough, endured more than anybody could demand from you. However, please understand: you're too important. When I told you about the prophecy, about your role in this war, I didn't exaggerate. I really meant it: you'll decide the fate of this war. You're not a pawn on this chessboard, you're queen and king in one go. You're the one to strike him down. You're the one who has to survive." _At least until you have to die fulfilling your role in this game_, he thought sadly. "I really wanted to allow you your own life, your own happiness. However, too many lives depend on you. I had to nudge you towards your destiny, to control the conditions. Please believe me, Harry: if I had a choice, I would have chosen different."

.

_**Hogwarts – ROR**_

.

"Why are we here, Cullen?" Hermione asked softly. She looked around in the room of requirements. The damages had long been repaired and it looked nothing like the last time, when the D.A. had trained here. It reminded her of a mix of a Church and an Asian meditation room. "And what kind of chamber is this?"

"It's created after my memory of a Templar meditation chamber. We use those to prepare our minds for important rituals."

Ginny stared wide-eyed. Unlike Hermione she had never seen anything like this. She followed her friend to the tall statue domineering the room. It reminded Hermione of Blessed Virgin Mary. _Perhaps every culture needs a person like her_. Only this Mary was more forceful and somewhat war-like, looking a bit like those Greek goddesses she had seen this summer.

"That's Andraste," Cullen explained. "She was the prophet of the maker, founder of our Church. She freed our people from oppression." He pondered for a moment and continued somewhat hesitantly. "In my opinion she was more like Mohammed had been for the Muslims than Jesus for the Christ. However, there are groups who believe she was more than a simply mortal, that she's now sitting at the maker's side as his bride."

"And what do you think?" Hermione asked softly.

"I think, Andraste was an extraordinary woman with a vision, allowing us other mortals to have more in our life than only a materialistic view. She offered us hope and showed us a way to save our souls from damnation. But she wasn't simply concentrating on the afterlife: she showed us a way to live this life in a way befitting to believers, helped others along on their own way to happiness, not only in the afterlife but also here."

"Sounds like a great woman to me."

"She certainly was," Cullen agreed.

"And who's that?" Ginny pointed towards a woman's statue, smaller than Andraste, standing in an alcove at the side with a small altar in front of it. "She reminds me of my great grandmother Rose."

"She does?" Hermione wondered. "I think she looks like my grand aunt Jane."

"She appears different to each of us," Cullen placated them. "It's part of her magic. This is Mother Rosalia. According to our tales, she has been mother confessor to nobody less than Andraste herself. She is a reminder of the days when even Andraste was a mortal, with her own doubts and grieves. She reminds us of the simple fact that even the greatest among us need a little help from time to time, that nobody can live without a friend, or a shoulder to cry on. We all can only be so strong ourselves."

.

"I'm sorry, Mathilda," Hermione said with a low voice. The elderly house-elf had joined the trio and more or less ignored the girl so far. After a supporting nod from Cullen, Hermione had gathered her Gryffindor courage and decided to address the pink elephant in the room.

Mathilda didn't say anything but at least didn't glare either. _She's not making this any easier_, Cullen thought, suppressing a smile. _She's far too much like Commander Gregoire right now_.

"Krea-kreacher," Hermione stuttered. "He explained to me the bond between house-elves and wizards."

"Did he now?"

Hermione nodded, continued with a cute blush. "He spoke about the reasons why house-elves like to serve, how much it hurts you to be freed – like it happened to Winky." Slowly she got more secure, her speech more fluid. "He explained why Dobby felt bad living with the Malfoys, why he wanted to get away but still wanted to serve – only under a more understanding master."

Mathilda still didn't say anything, but her face seemed a tad softer now – at least to Cullen who actually learned to read her expression.

"I still want to help your people. I still think you deserve happiness and to be treated fairly and politely. However, I understand that I have much to learn before I know the right way to continue on my path." Hermione concluded with a sigh: "and I hope you'll be willing to help me with this. I can't do this without you."

"Apology accepted," Mathilda responded with a small nod. She wanted to leave it with that, but Cullen raised a single eyebrow. With a groan, Mathilda snapped her fingers and a small box appeared in her hands. She offered it to Hermione who opened it warily. She saw perhaps two dozen tiny vials in it.

"What's..?"

"You can't learn about us without visiting our home, can you?"

"Home..?"

"You didn't think we live in the kitchen, did you?" Mathilda huffed under the broad grins of Ginny and Cullen. "And you can't visit us without shrinking. You would certainly bring the ceiling down with that big head of yours."

"Oh, Mathilda, thank you," Hermione wailed, understanding the invitation as what it was. She jumped the tiny elf and hugged her. Mathilda froze for a moment before she patted her back awkwardly, while glaring at Cullen. 'You owe me for this'.

'She deserves a chance', he mouthed back, looking very smug right now.

.

"You still didn't tell us… why are we here, Cullen?" Hermione mentioned after a while.

Cullen sighed and took a seat. There was a very comfortable sitting group in a corner of the room. Mathilda, after offering tea and cake, left them to their own devices. The young man got very sombre now, actually frightening the girls a bit. However, they had to know how serious this was. With a soft voice he explained them in detail about the diary and the locket, the nature of a Horcrux and what it meant for the survival of Voldemort – and the rest of the magical world. Cullen got even more dire speaking about Harry's scar. Both girls turned into a mix of deep grief and incredible anger directed at the monster that had done this to 'their Harry'.

"He doesn't know," Cullen concluded "at least not every part of this."

"He has a right to know," Hermione demanded and Ginny nodded eagerly. "He was more than furious about Albus' secrets."

"I'm nothing like Albus," Cullen growled.

This actually placated the girls, a little bit at least. "We know you aren't. Still he should hear about this."

"He will, in a few weeks." Cullen raised a hand to stop their complaints. "How would Harry react hearing this? What would he have done, with this knowledge in his heart, meeting Voldemort at the Ministry?"

Both girls went deathly pale. There was no doubt about the answer. "He would have sacrificed himself," Hermione whispered.

"I have no doubt," Cullen agreed "that he would have done exactly that."

"You want to find a solution first," Ginny grasped first where his thoughts were going.

Cullen nodded. "I already have a solution… I think."

"And it has something to do with this room… with us?"

"In a way yes," Cullen affirmed. "I want to use this room for a bit of training. You remember my special abilities?" Both girls nodded. "I'm able to destroy a Horcrux, I've done it with the locket," again he stopped girls, this time from prematurely expressing joy. "However, by doing this I destroy the container of the Horcrux, too."

Joy turned into despair. "Then… how…?"

"I found five people willing to help me." He had been very happy that all five had actually agreed to help him. The training would start in a few days. "I'll train them in one special ability and together we should be able to destroy the Horcrux without damaging the container." He hated it to speak like this about Harry but it help to keep a clear mind.

"We want to be part of this," Ginny demanded and Hermione eagerly nodded. Sadly, Cullen shook his head: "you can't… because you're witches. I need people that possess a magical core, but small enough not to count as wizards."

Ginny looked confused but Hermione concluded: "you need squibs." As Cullen nodded, Hermione's expression turned into a mischievous grin. "I know some pureblood who'll hate the idea."

"I assume as much," Cullen responded with a likewise grin.

"So," Hermione asked slowly: "you have the people and the training room. You'll train them, make your ritual and exorcise the Horcrux from Harry." Cullen nodded. "Then what about us?"

"I need you for the rehearsals," Cullen explained blandly. "First we'll do a cleansing of your wound, Hermione. I mostly extracted the curse, but small remains are still lingering there. It's the reason you still have a thin scar. It will be a good way to test the cleansing ritual."

Ginny got very silent and trembled slightly. She had an idea where this was going. Cullen didn't disappoint her. "You still have nightmares, Ginny, don't you?" Ginny nodded weakly, tears shooting into her eyes. "I can feel his aura around you. It hasn't left you completely. It makes you feel… unclean." Again she nodded, leaning into Hermione who glared at Cullen for doing this. "I can help you, Ginny. The feeling will never go completely away, but this will free your mind and soul of his remains."

Ginny sniffed and stared at him, trying to find something in his eyes. "You know," she said after a while. "You know how it feels."

Cullen nodded with a dark face.

"You experienced the same thing," Hermione half-asked, half-stated. Her face softened. Cullen wasn't doing this to hurt her friend. He certainly understood her better than anybody else.

"Let me tell you, Ginny, about my time at the Circle, the time of the assault. It was a time of madness and grief, with demons running wild, trying to subjugate my mind, to force my soul into servitude. Let me tell you about Uldred."

.

_**Interlude – Gaunt Manor**_

.

Another ward down, another step done on his way to his destination, Albus Dumbledore thought gravely, as he entered the dark room. Only an undertaker would call the room cosy, with its dark wood panelling, the threadbare couch in an old-fashioned floral pattern and the brass candle holders. Nobody, no burglar, would expect something steal-worthy in this room. Not that any burglar would be able to enter the house and survive the daring feat. However, this was exactly the reason for Albus' presence: he wanted to steal something – or to safeguard it, as he called it in his head.

The old manor of the Gaunt family had been mostly empty for many years. Tom apparently didn't like it and apart from a short stay in the year of his return, he hadn't made use of it so far. This didn't mean there wasn't anything of interest in the house or that it would be without danger to enter the place. No less than four layers of wards to alarm and protect had been around the house and especially this room.

_A worthy defence_, Albus mused, _of the item I expect to find here_.

While he rummaged through the belongings that had been left behind, searching for secret stashes where the ring could be hidden, Albus thought about the events of the past couple of weeks. Control was slipping through his fingers this summer. The members of his order as well as the students and teachers of Hogwarts had always obeyed him, always been close to him, and looked up to him with adoration and respect. Since Cullen's sudden appearance at the Ministry so much had changed and he was still wondering whether it was a good or bad development.

Had Cullen been right? Had he been too convinced by his own intellect and wisdom; listening to nobody but his own opinion? He made errors in the past. Albus was wise enough to admit that. But overall he had chosen the right path, hadn't he? The conversation with Harry had shaken him more than he wanted to admit. He nearly admitted to the boy that he expected him to die in the end. _It would have been too early_. Since then he was struggling between yielding and stubbornness.

Yielding would mean to listen to Cullen and Harry, cooperate more and decide less on his own. They – and a few others like Minerva and Filius – would certainly like it, such a new style. But would it be better for Britain in the long run? Wouldn't 'Democracy' weaken the Light's position in its fight against the overwhelming Darkness? Wouldn't it hinder him from making fast decisions in moments of urgency? Wouldn't it prevent him from making decisions that were right and important only because they were unpopular and hard? Like putting young Harry in the Dursleys' care, a decision he still felt right about.

Stubbornness would mean to continue his old path, to only listen to himself, following his own advice. That path would be more difficult to follow from now on, especially with Cullen putting more and more obstacles in his way. Albus knew that he needed an important victory and fast. Destroying another Horcrux would be such a victory, allowing him to catch up with the young man.

With a proud smile, Albus watched the panel slid open, revealing the hidden stash with a locked box in it. _Another ward_, he noticed. It wouldn't stop him.

In a few minutes I'll hold another Horcrux in my hand, the Gaunt family ring.

_In a few minutes I'll have the victory I sorely need._

.

_**Hogwarts**_

.

Crashing boots on the stone floor were the first sign of something – someone – disturbing his well-earned peace. Feeling that his leisure afternoon would soon come to a sudden end, Severus Snape put a stasis spell on the cauldron he had been working on. No sooner than that the door was opened with more force than could be called polite and banged against the wall. A beyond furious Steward Cullen entered the potion lab, the young man glaring at him. Severus actually felt a tad intimidated – not that he would ever admit that openly – but sensed that his anger wasn't directed at him.

"What has Albus done this time?" It was a poke in the dark but until now he had only seen the young man angry as this about something Albus had done.

"Please come with me, Professor," Cullen urged. He obviously struggled to be half-way polite as if he hadn't time for that nonsense right now.

Severus rolled his eyes and didn't budge – for now. It felt good to be the one irritating the other for once. "Could it wait? I've much to…"

"Come," Cullen actually stomped on the floor like a toddler. Somewhat calmer he explained: "hurry, it's about Draco and Narcissa Malfoy." He left the lab again, not even looking back if Severus followed him, mumbling something awful sounding like 'stupid git'. Severus didn't know if Cullen meant Albus or him – perhaps both.

.

A few minutes later Severus Snape found himself following Cullen upstairs towards the Headmaster's office. He hadn't explained why his godson or Narcissa would be here but Severus had his suspicions. Severus assumed it had something to do with the rumours about Draco taking the mark this summer, rumours that the Dark Lord wanted to punish Lucius for his failure at the Ministry by instructing Draco to do some impossible task. Bella had hinted at something like this between mad cackles.

"Open!" Cullen hissed at the Gargoyle guarding the entrance to Albus' office, neither asking for allowance nor willing to use the password. Without hesitation the stony guardian jumped aside.

_He's showing Albus that he is not one to be messed with_, Severus realized with a smirk.

"Oh, Cullen, Severus, welcome," Albus greeted them, the smile not reaching his eyes.

Cullen only grunted, before greeting Narcissa with a polite bow: "welcome to Hogwarts, Lady Malfoy."

Severus had only a few seconds to have a look at Draco and Narcissa – both looked very pale and tense, with Narcissa's eyes puffy and red – before he found a trembling witch in his arms. _It has to be even worse than I thought_. Narcissa rarely showed her emotions like this. She was always controlled, always a lady.

"Now, now," Albus tried to sooth them. "We should all sit down and speak about this like adults."

"Are you alright, Mister Malfoy?" Cullen asked Draco, completely ignoring Albus. He even put a steadying hand on Draco's shoulder. That the young Slytherin endured it without sparing a glance or attempting to draw back was proof of his inner turmoil. He nodded, apparently not trusting his voice right now, his concerned eyes never leaving his mother's fragile frame.

Severus led Narcissa back to her chair and took a seat at her side. "Could anybody explain to me what happened?" He looked Narcissa in the eye, his voice controlled but his eyes blazing. "Not that I wouldn't be happy to see you, Cissy, but why are you here? Certainly your sister and your… house guest… won't be happy should they hear about this."

"He wants me to take the mark, Uncle," Draco said, speaking for the first time, his voice broken. ""He wants me to become a Death Eater before I return to Hogwarts. He…" His eyes flicked to the headmaster. "He gave me a task…"

"What kind of task?" Severus asked, already having a creepy feeling about it, a feeling of impending doom. That Albus was sitting there, watching, listening, staring like a snake watching her breakfast, certainly didn't calm him one bit.

"He wants me to… to kill…"

"To kill whom? Potter?" Irrespective of how much he hated the boy for being his father's son, he couldn't allow it to happen. He promised Lily to protect him. However, it would at least be something imaginable, something feasible for a teenager.

"N… no," Draco shook his head. "The Headmaster."

"What?" Severus' eyes widened in horror.

"He told me to return and kill the Headmaster before the end of the school year."

"And how does he expect you to accomplish this simple task?" Severus sneered. He already knew the answer.

"He doesn't," Cullen interjected calmly.

"He expects Draco to try and die in the attempt," Narcissa agreed. "It's Lucius' punishment."

_So I assumed correctly_, Severus thought, feeling even worse for being right about it. Draco had the choice of denying – and being killed by the Dark Lord or, more realistic, his mad aunt – or die trying something far beyond his abilities. _He's a dead man walking already_.

"We'll find a way to prevent this from happening, I'm certain," Albus stated calmly, his voice nonchalant like speaking about the weather. However, his eyes told a different story. Severus saw something in his mentor's eyes he didn't like. He had seen this expression years ago when another young man had entered the Headmaster's office searching protection and absolution, finding only more hurt and pain.

"I want to protect Draco from this. He can't take the mark," Narcissa pleaded, struggling to compose herself. "I've seen what it did to Lucius. I won't watch Draco take the same slide into darkness."

_Slide into Darkness; that sounded far too much like something Cullen would say_, Albus groaned. "It won't happen, Narcissa," he said with a supportive smile. "However, the Order is far-stretched as it is. We can't protect anybody simply out of our good heart," he explained with a regretful sigh. Both Cullen and Severus listened with narrowed eyes. They didn't like one bit where this conversation was heading. "To openly defy Voldemort right now would be too dangerous for young Mister Malfoy. Perhaps it would be better to play for time. He could agree for now…"

Two hands smashing on the table interrupted him. For a moment Cullen and Severus locked eyes, seeing only determination to stop this from happening. "You can't seriously demand from Draco to accept the mark. It would be like branding him as cattle for the slaughterhouse. It's a step he would never be able to undo. It would taint his life forever."

"Severus," Albus tried to placate him. _Didn't he understand that this was needed?_ Albus wondered. "This is wartime. I would love to simply offer protection, but this is a chance to…"

"To turn him into a tool, like you did to me years ago? Do you actually intend to… what? Use him as a spy?" Severus gestured towards Draco: "he wouldn't stand a chance. He would be dead before the first conversation with the Dark Lord is over. Completely disregarding what this would do to his mind. The Dark mark isn't a simple tattoo, Albus. He would be forced to maim, rape and kill. "

"Yes, Severus, I understand this. I really…"

"No, you don't," Cullen calmly stopped him. "You have absolutely no idea what we're speaking about. Perhaps it's time that you do."

Before either man had a chance to slink back, Cullen grabbed Albus' right hand and Severus' left. He forced them together, open palm against open palm.

_Does he know Legilimency?_ Albus wondered with no small amount of fear. The young man had never shown signs of that rare ability. Severus wondered the same but was calmer about it. If showing his mind to Albus would save Draco from taking this dark path, it would be worth the embarrassment. Narcissa had always been kind to him. Supporting her now was more important than his own feelings.

However, it wasn't their mind Cullen was targeting at. Thoughts weren't his specialty but souls instead. Similar to what he had done with Andromeda Tonks at Harry's former home, he used his abilities to show Albus what the past had done to Severus' heart and soul. Albus raised his Occlumency shields to the fullest while Severus dropped his. Neither act was of any importance as Cullen's powers didn't target the mind. Instead, putting their hands together, with his hands around them, allowed their auras to mesh.

The feeling was seriously disturbing and instantly broke through any barrier Albus had put around his mind. He felt something crack in his heart, as raw emotions battered him. Albus staggered, only not losing his stance because Cullen didn't allow it to happen. With decades' worth of experience in controlling his own mind and heart, Albus tried to shield himself from wave after wave of dark emotions. They shattered any barrier, fragile or strong, flooded his heart with pictures of what Severus had endured in the past, how events and deeds had changed him, tainted him and darkened that part of him that Cullen called his soul.

It was dark everywhere. Albus felt like a little boy lost in a deep well. There was no way to leave it, no rescue possible and the water was rising around him. Albus didn't realize that the only water right now were the tears streaming from his eyes. Narcissa and Draco stared at them with wide eyes, not really understanding what they were watching. Narcissa had at least a guess and actually felt worse that Severus had to endure this to help her son. Albus staggered anew, his last restraint falling apart. This time Cullen let his hand go, allowed Albus to sink back. With a loud crashing sound Albus went to the floor with his seat, looking like he was completely groggy from whatever he just experienced.

"This is your work, Headmaster," Cullen his, his voice far darker than any time before. "Severus made a grave error in his youth, an error he regretted ever since. But instead of helping him, instead of assisting him on his way back to light and hope, you heaved darkness after darkness onto his soul. I can't imagine what he had to do in the past, to promote your 'Greater Good'." Cullen spat the last words. "In any case it was far more than any General had the right to demand. If this is the price of seeing the Light win, then it isn't worth it."

Cullen breathed deeply, struggling to calm down again. He glanced towards Draco, who looked like fainting. He watched Narcissa who now returned the favour and hugged Severus who looked like a broken doll.

"Severus may be a prat, a caustic cynic full of hate and prejudices, unable to control his temper or simply show a modicum of polite and fair behaviour. But you certainly did your part in promoting this. You did your part in breaking him. He is a human being who deserves more than this. How can you even stand the sight of him, knowing what you did to him, knowing what you demanded him to do and endure?"

Cullen stepped at Draco's side. "You won't repeat what you did to him. You won't force Draco to ruin his life as your tool in this war." Nodding towards Narcissa who stared at him with thankful eyes, he calmly stated: "I promised you the protection of Hogwarts, Lady Malfoy, for you and your son. Hogwarts stands to this promise."

.

_**Hogwarts – Albus private rooms**_

.

The past days had been hard and the nights even more so. Since his 'conversation' with Cullen, Severus and the Malfoys, nightmares had disturbed his sleep. Past conversation had made reappearance in his mind, conversations he had with a younger Severus, with a boy looking for help and getting cold orders instead.

_You did your part in breaking him._

Cullen had been right. Severus needed a friend, a confessor and someone caring about him. Instead he got a second harsh master, one who only saw his worth as a pawn in this game of chess. Had it been worth it? Using Severus had saved countless lives but he wasn't certain anymore that the sheer number counted more than the pain he had caused.

Albus looked down on the table. A single piece of jewellery was resting there: the Gaunt family ring. Like expected it turned out to be one of Tom's Horcruxes. It contained a sliver of his soul and needed to be destroyed before Harry could confront him. However, the ring had unveiled another secret, a secret far more disturbing and able to tug at Albus' heart in a way he hadn't expected. The ring was built around one of the three Deathly Hallows: the so-called resurrection stone. Naturally the name was deceptive. The stone wouldn't raise someone from death, wouldn't restore life. However, according to his knowledge, it would call back a soul from beyond. It would allow him to speak with her, with his dead sister Ariana.

It was a risk and he wasn't certain to want to take, but her death, the circumstances of how she died, had always been the one big grief in his life. It had estranged him from his brother and forbidden him from finding true happiness. Ariana had always been on his mind, from a small corner in his head watching his every action. He would never be able to rectify his errors of the past, but perhaps by seeing her, speaking with her and apologizing to her, he could find closure.

He would destroy the ring afterwards, but didn't he deserve this at least?

With new-found determination Albus put the ring on his finger.

.

_**Hogwarts – near the ROR**_

.

"Why are we here, Mathilda?"

Cullen asked the tiny house-elf with a smile on his lips. She had only told him that she wanted to show him something, wanted him to meet someone.

"Patience is a virtue."

Cullen raised a single eyebrow. _One day I have to ask her if she had been Templar-Commander in another life. Or drill-sergeant perhaps_, he silently snickered. Exercising patience as demanded, he waited at her side for whomever she expected. In his honour it should be said that he only jumped a little when suddenly the 'guest' appeared – right through the wall. It was a… a ghostly appearance, so to say. Remembering his manners, Cullen bowed deeply. "Greetings, Grey Lady."

Naturally he had met her before, had heard that she rarely if ever spoke to others, ghost or living inhabitants of Hogwarts. Someone once mentioned that she mostly ignored the headmaster, a detail only improving his opinion about her character.

"Greetings, Steward Cullen," she responded to his surprise. "Matron Mathilda told me much about you."

"I hope only the nice stories," Cullen asked.

"Are there really nice stories about you?" Mathilda mock wondered.

"Old hag," Cullen growled.

"Big oaf," Mathilda responded in kind.

"I see, the stories are true," the Grey Lady mocked.

Cullen got serious again. "I'm a tad surprised, I admit. I heard that you're a bit… reclusive."

"I mostly am," the Grey Lady admitted. "However, Mathilda told me about your plans regarding this room," she gestured towards the room of requirement. "Don't fear: your secret is safe with me," she soothed his fears, feeling his troubles. "However, I want to help."

Cullen accepted the offer with a bow. "Your help is certainly appreciated. How exactly would you like to assist?"

"First, you should perhaps know my real name. In life I was known as Helena Ravenclaw, the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw." Cullen's eyes widened. Even he had heard about Rowena Ravenclaw, one of the four founders of Hogwarts. "I want to tell you a little story, young Cullen. It's a story of a ghost, an error made and a mother's diadem."

.

_**A/N **_

_I'm not completely content with the Albus/Severus/Cullen scene. I hope it's still readable and understandable how Cullen tried to show Albus that Severus Snape isn't simply a pawn in this game, a tool to be used, but a human being. _

_Mother Rosalia isn't an original DA char, but a NPC I invented for my DA roleplaying group._

_From now on I'll continue this story at a slower pace. It's really time to start with part three of my Harry Potter trilogy. I nonetheless hope to publish another chapter of this story every 1-2 weeks. _


	7. Chapter 7 Of Absolution and Healing

**A/N**

_A little remark about __**Albus and the ring**__. Contrary to what AdonCa wrote in his review, in my opinion Albus didn't put on the ring DESPITE Cullen showing the repercussions of his former actions but (at least partly) BECAUSE of this heart-rending experience. For decades he was able to mostly forget about his late sister and all the other humans that had suffered under his actions. Now all this came back with vehemence. He wants to apologize and starts with the most important person: his sister. He wants to apologize and explain his reasons. He hopes for absolution. His mind is a tad befuddled right now and he'll need some time to regain his composure. This is at least part of the reason why he continues to make error after error. You'll see the next serious one in this chapter._

.

**Of Absolution and Healing**

.

_**Ministry of Magic – Department of Mysteries**_

.

Croaker poured some apple juice into a tumbler, remembering that Cullen didn't share his enthusiasm for green tea. Out of the corner of his eye he watched him take a box from his bag and put it on the table. It was a wooden box, some kind of teak wood, measuring around eight to ten inches on each side. There was a ribbon covering the gap between lid and case, inscribed all over with tiny silvery runes.

The young man had demanded a meeting only an hour ago and had been quite adamant about its importance and urgency. Croaker allowed him to enjoy his juice before he gestured towards the box and smiled. "I like guests bringing me gifts, especially if they look so fascinating."

Cullen's smile was tiny but still there. _So this was serious but not too troubling_, Croaker mused. The young man stared at the box for a while, and cleared his throat before he explained: "only Filius know about this, Croaker. I put damn much trust in your integrity. Do not disappoint me."

Croaker nodded gravely. As he tried to put his hand on the box, Cullen stopped him. "I mean it, Croaker. I don't know the workings of this madhouse. Can you ascertain that only you will be able to get a hold of this? Can you promise me that only you will examine it, that you won't allow anybody – be it a corrupt Minister, a meddling Headmaster or Voldemort himself – near this box until I return to destroy its content?"

_He'll destroy it right now if I can't promise this_, Croaker realized. However, he took his time to think about it. He would have to take extra precautions. Not even the other Unspeakables could be allowed to know about this. He knew that Fudge, Dumbledore and Voldemort all had sympathizers in his Department. It was possible, difficult but possible. Slowly he nodded: "I promise."

That he took his time instead of immediately answering convinced Cullen more than any rash assurance. He let go of Croaker's hand. "I only allow this to happen because I understand the importance of an examination. It's beyond my abilities and even Filius has only limited knowledge and experience with something like this. Severus… would be in too much danger and it would put him in a difficult situation even knowing about this artefact."

"That leaves only me," Croaker smiled darkly.

"Indeed," Cullen agreed. "I'll give you forty days to perform an examination. "

Only now did Croaker open the box. Carefully he removed the rune ribbon and lifted the lid. In the box was a single item of incredible beauty. He had seen pictures of this item and even seen Rowena's statue back in the Ravenclaw Tower wearing it, decades ago when he had been a Ravenclaw himself, but never hoped to actually see it one day. "Is this…"

"The diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw," Cullen said gravely. "And another one of Voldemort's Horcruxes."

.

_**Hogwarts – Headmaster Office**_

.

"I still can't believe how incredible stupid you were."

A fuming Severus Snape wasn't a nice sight, but Albus realized that he deserved it after the stunt he just pulled. _His mood won't get better when I tell him about my plans_, Albus mused sombrely.

"I had to risk it, Severus," he futilely tried to placate him.

"Why?" Severus growled. "Why did you have to…" he waved towards the dark, bony hand "to throw away your life like this?" He was always enraged by blatant examples of stupidity and this was nothing else than stupidity in its worst form. For years he hadn't seen Albus like a friend. He didn't like him. He didn't especially trust him, especially not with things like hope, friendship or any other positive feeling. However, he knew that they still needed him. Albus was a very powerful wizard with an incredible knowledge about the most obscure things. He had lived for more than a century, experienced things that would make others wet their pants all over, and met and befriended all kind of people and creatures all over the world. They may hate and despise him, but they sorely needed him. He couldn't simply die, not now.

"I won't live for long anymore, Severus." Albus voice was full of sorrow and for once Severus believed this emotion to be true. It didn't ease his mood.

"No, you won't" he growled. "Not by acting stupidly and recklessly like this, old blundering Gryffindor that you are." One week ago, Albus had called Severus to show him what would happen upon putting on that damned ring. What did he expect? Rainbows and birdsong celebrating him while he wore Slytherin's ring? Merlin, it was a damned Horcrux. How could he be so…

For days he had tried everything: decursing, potions, hell he even thought about amputation. However, it was far too late for that. The curse had already spread through his body. He could slow its effect but nothing more.

"I had to see her, Severus. I had to beg for her forgiveness."

Severus frowned deeply. He could connect to that feeling. Sorrow and regret were two emotions he shared with Albus. He had done many wrongs in the past, did many stupid things and got _her_ killed in his eagerness to please his master. _What would I risk to get the opportunity to speak with Lily again, even if it's only her ghost and it's only once? To apologize to her, to beg for her forgiveness?_ Severus sighed_. I would risk my life as well_.

"And did you succeed?"

"Yes," despite the pain and knowledge that he would die before the school year ended, Albus' face actually softened into a smile. "She was there, Severus. She spoke with me. She accepted my apology."

Severus felt a mix of envy and happiness. Yes, he was happy that Albus got this chance. If it was actually true. He wasn't too certain about this whole Resurrection Stone story. And Albus' face… his eyes… Severus simply wasn't certain how much was reality and how much only imagination born out of heart-felt desire. It was obvious how harassed Albus was by the experience. _Perhaps it only happened in his muddled mind_. But he didn't have the heart to express his doubts. _Let him have this little happiness_, Severus thought. _He paid for it dearly enough already_.

.

"How long…" Albus actually fumbled with the words. Even he, despite all age, experience and self-control, felt the iron hand of fear creep in his heart.

"Six months," Severus answered gravely after a moment of pondering the question "nine at most, if you carefully use the potions and avoid any strenuous efforts."

The statement wasn't a surprise to Albus but still was difficult to hear. He wouldn't live to see the graduation at year's end. He had to prepare everything for the time after. Albus sighed. _This won't be easy_.

"Severus…"

Severus narrowed his eyes. He could feel it in his bones. "I won't like this, will I?"

"I fear… not," Albus nodded slowly. "My death… it could be an opportunity, too, in a way."

"Opportunity? How could your death be an opportunity?"

"You remember our last conversation? The one with young Mister Malfoy?"

Suddenly he understood. "You mean about his task to kill you? Nothing has changed, Albus. Draco won't…"

Albus stopped his tantrum. "I understand this, Severus. I won't force him. However, we could use it nonetheless."

"Explain," he demanded darkly. He felt the urge to strangle the bastard but for now controlled it, if only barely.

"What if you tried to convince Draco to do it?" Albus gestured Severus to let him continue. "You weren't successful, but not because Draco turned a traitor. He's a boy, frightened, unable to kill me. You could plead for… leniency… towards him and his mother."

"The Dark Lord wouldn't fall for this. It would appear like weakness."

"Not when you have something to offer in return. Not when you kill me."

From one second to the next, blood started to pound in Severus ears, drowning out any word Albus said, even his own thoughts.

"…when you kill me…" *thump*

"…he couldn't deny…" *thump*

"…young Draco… safe…" *thump*

Without a word Severus turned around and walked away.

"It would ascertain your position and gain you his complete trust. We'll need you more than ever after my death, Severus… Severus?"

The door closed with a bang after the potions master and left Headmaster Dumbledore alone in his office… alone with his incredible ideas.

.

_**Hogwarts – near the kitchen**_

.

It was late at night, nearly midnight even, but the young man felt that his mind would need a few more hours to be weary and tired enough to find sleep. The last few days and weeks had been stressful, for his mother far more than for him. After the disturbing conversation with the headmaster – a conversation that showed him a side of his godfather he hadn't expected, a very vulnerable and caring side, – they got a flight of guest rooms near the Hufflepuff dorms.

_Hufflepuff_, Draco groaned_, why Hufflepuff_?

Naturally, he exactly knew and understood the reason, even appreciated it if not openly – never openly. It was simple, actually: the Hufflepuffs were the students least likely to attack his mother or him. And an attack was regretfully a very real possibility. Professor McGonagall had changed his class schedule according to Steward Cullen's wishes. Mostly it was to avoid bringing him together with his 'old friends' in any lessons that offered occasions to attack him. There wouldn't be accidents on the Astronomy tower; no explosions in the potions lab; and no stray hexes in DADA training sessions. It couldn't completely be avoided to put him in the same room with other Slytherins but the danger of some accident in History of Magic or Ancient Runes was far smaller than in other classes.

And the reason for his late-night excursion? His mother was unable to find sleep – again. Since their arrival at Hogwarts her nerves had been tense. It was no secret to Draco that his mother expected some kind of retribution for their betrayal. He could only hope that the protection of Hogwarts was as good as the Headmaster always claimed it to be. He hated the thought of his mother getting hurt only because she wanted to protect him.

_There is the painting_, Draco thought as he at last stood in front of the painting Vince had described a year ago. Dumb as he was, Vince was stubborn and persistent with regards to his stomach's needs. It was like he had a sixth sense in his search for additional snacks. He found the hidden entrance to the kitchen last year and told him about it. If Draco had only listened more closely back then.

"You have to rub the pear in the fruit basket," a high-pitched voice startled him. Draco whirled around, his hand going for his wand. He relaxed as he only saw Dobby watching him warily. _He didn't call me 'Master Draco'_, Draco realized. It was only a small thing but a big hint of how much things had changed. Without uttering a word he tested the advice and… the door opened. He pondered about whether he should thank Dobby but the house-elf had already departed into the kitchen without looking back. Only the twitching of his right ear unveiled his tenseness. Draco followed him and looked around.

Half a dozen hose-elves were still working, mostly cleaning but a few preparing tea or small snacks for some late awake inhabitant of the castle. Draco watched them for a while and smirked as he noticed one of them wearing an S.P.E.W. badge. He hadn't expected to see one of those ever again.

"I can't believe it; the Mudblood is still…"

"Don't use that word," he was interrupted by an angry voice, telling him that Dobby was still around. "Bad word for nice Misses."

For a moment Draco got angry, but the last days had been disturbing enough to hold him back. So instead of lashing out he only frowned. "Mudblood or Muggleborn," he grumbled "it doesn't change the fact that she's silly about this spew nonsense."

"It's S.P.E.W., Master Draco," a far older voice corrected him.

He turned around. Somehow Matron Mathilda had silently entered the kitchen without him noticing and was now watching him closely. Surprisingly there was no hate in her eyes but only mild interest. Draco bowed slightly: "good evening, Matron Mathilda." If his godfather was polite to this old house-elf, it was perhaps a wise thing to do the same.

"And while a few of her ideas may be nonsense," Mathilda smiled indulgently "they show that she has her heart in the right place. She's willing to learn, willing to listen." She scrutinized him for a moment. "Are you willing to learn too?" Without waiting for a response – as if the answer wasn't of any interest to her but only for him – she wandered away.

_Was he willing to learn?_ Draco wondered. _More importantly: Was he able to learn?_ His mother had asked him the same question a few days ago and he was still uncertain about the answer. Changes were difficult, often painful. The world had been clear for the past sixteen years. Friend and foe, worthy and unworthy, pure and unclean – there had never been a doubt in his heart. And now? Everything was changing. The most important change however had been that he now was allowed to even have those thoughts. For sixteen years his father had been his guiding star, not allowing him any divergence, any personal thoughts on matters big or small. _Think, speak and act as I would, everything else is wrong_. Everything he did, every word he said, had always been to please him. And now his mother demanded from him that he made up his mind on his own.

He had a choice now. That had been the one important lesson of the last weeks. A choice meant possibilities but responsibilities too. He couldn't hide behind his father anymore. He had to stand up for his own. For the first time in his life Draco felt insecure.

"For Mistress Narcissa;" Dobby's voice broke his line of thoughts as the tiny house-elf pushed a tablet into his hands. Draco noticed sandwiches with cress and cinnamon tea. His mother more than once complained about not getting the right stuff anymore since his father had driven away her favourite house-elf.

"You still remember."

"Mistress Narcissa was always nice to me."

_Nice_, Draco wouldn't call nice how his mother treated her house-elves. Certainly she didn't treat them as equals, but in comparison to the treatment they got from his dear father it could be called polite. _Little gestures_, Draco realized. House-elves lived to serve, something the Mud… the Muggleborn still had to accept. But nonetheless they had feelings, emotions.

"Thank you, Dobby." Dobby's eyes widened comically. "Mother missed your cress sandwiches dearly. Perhaps you could bring her some from time to time. I'm certain she would appreciate it." His ears twitched again and Draco left without another word.

_He didn't say yes. But he didn't say no either._

.

_**Hogwarts – room of requirement**_

.

She was nervous and perhaps rightfully so. She didn't understand how Cullen's abilities worked and not knowing something caused her brain to go into overdrive. Hermione sighed and pulled herself together. She had personally greeted the attendants, every single one of them. Matron Mathilda was sitting at the edge together with Ginny, who was eager to watch what would happen to her in a few days. The room's appearance was the same as at the last time she had been here a few days ago. Cullen was kneeling at the altar in front of… how did he call her? Mother Rosalia. _He is praying for her assistance_, Hermione realized. Uneasily she wondered: _Will we need her assistance?_

"Everything will go alright, dearie," Hermione allowed her father to pull her into his arms. His presence was a more than welcome surprise. Most of the others she knew as well, knew their reasons for helping. Cullen had even told her about his plans to teach Marius Black more about his Templar abilities – him and none else than Argus Filch, the morose caretaker. She could only hope that it would change him as well, his grumpy heart and sullen behaviour. Hermione understood why he acted like this after years of insults from students, teachers and parents alike. But partly it was his fault too. There were reasons why most squibs worked in the Muggle world. It was certainly easier and better for your self-confidence and inner balance. Did they insult him because he was grumpy or was he grumpy because they insulted him? It was the question about hen and egg all over again.

"Please take your place, Hermione," Cullen interrupted her musings. With a curt nod Hermione acknowledged the order and stepped into the middle of the Pentagram. Cullen would be at her side, the five squibs in the corners of the sign with her father right in front of her. The Templar had explained beforehand that the Pentagram had no special meaning in his culture. He only chose it to evenly arrange the five squibs around her.

_I've never seen him so calm, so content_, Hermione mused as she watched her father taking his position. _He looks… happy_.

She had been full of doubts about his participation in this endeavour, but seeing him like this convinced her that everything would be alright. Apparently the meditation and hours spent in prayer had been good to him. Ben Granger had never been an especially pious man. Two visits a year to the Anglican church of the neighbourhood had been more than enough for him. He always tended more to the humanistic view of his college education. Still something about these hours spent with Cullen and the other squibs obviously touched his heart.

"Sit down."

Hermione took her seat on the ground, with only a small blanket below her. Her feet were bare as was most of her chest. With only a bikini top for modesty, the scar was plainly visible as was the scar on her hand. It was a reminder of her detention with that toad. Hermione remembered all too well her conversation with Cullen about the scar.

.

_Flashback_

.

"Will the ritual vanish the scar on my chest completely?"

"I'm not certain," Cullen admitted. "I expect it to happen but I can't promise. The scar is the result of a curse and the ceremony is meant to drain the remains of that dark magic from your body. However, it is a dry run for this circle. You'll have to wait and see. In any case it should become better than it currently is – fainter."

Hermione hoped for the best. She knew that the scar would have been far worse without Cullen's immediate attention back at the Ministry. Still, the faint scar disturbed her, especially after the admiring looks she got from Harry wearing her bikini this summer. Her mother had explained to her that attractiveness was for the most part to feel good and self-secure in your own body. Thanks to the scar she still lacked in that regard.

"There is another scar, Cullen. I think it's cursed, too. Madam Pomfrey tended to it…"

She lifted her hand and showed him the scar. _I shall obey my betters_, was visible there.

Cullen frowned. "I thought only Harry had such a scar."

"No," Hermione shrugged helplessly. "Only his is the worst as he got the most detentions."

"How many?"

"Detentions?"

"Students," Cullen growled.

"Around a dozen, most of them Muggleborn. And then there was the one big detention with all D.A. members she caught."

"And nothing happened after that? She wasn't prosecuted?"

"No," Hermione shook her head. "Professor McGonagall couldn't do anything about it and later… we dropped the matter after she was gone."

"She shouldn't go unpunished. She'll only continue with her ways... Next time she'll be even worse."

"You want to do something about it?"

"I will," Cullen declared and Hermione didn't doubt him. Hogwarts declared him protector of the students and unlike the staff he took his job very serious.

_I can't wait to see what happens_, Hermione grinned mischievously.

.

_End of Flashback_

.

"Close your eyes and relax." Cullen told her and took a seat in front of her. Hermione decided not to have a last look towards her father so as not to distract him. She closed her eyes and tried to steady her breath as Cullen had told her.

"This will be cold and tingle a bit. Don't flinch and try to stay calm. Only open your eyes and move again when I'll tell you to."

Hermione nodded curtly and continued to breathe evenly. She heard him stir something. It sounded like someone working in a potions lab. A weird smell was in the air, acrid like one of those remedies against a cold.

"Dear Andraste…" Cullen started and five voices repeated the singsong. Hermione recognized her father's voice. And that shrill one was Petunia Dursley – soon to be Petunia Evans again according to rumours. The grumpy one of Filch she would recognize everywhere. She halfway expected him to call for Mrs. Norris any second.

"…hear my prayer…"

Cullen moved and Hermione somehow knew that the noise was him dunking a brush into the… whatever he had mixed in that bowl.

"…help me in this hour…"

Softly he took her hand in his and turned it around to have the scar in plain sight. She could feel the calluses from endless training hours with his sword.

"…help this girl in her need…"

It was cool as he started to put some paste on her hand, the bristles of the brush tingling on her skin.

"…help me ease her pain…"

Hermione felt her hand getting warm. She had to concentrate not to pull back, to stay eyes closed and her breath calm.

"…take away the curse lingering on her skin…"

He started to write something on the skin around the scar.

"…and make her skin unblemished again, as a reflection of her pure soul…"

_Do I still have a pure soul_, Hermione wondered? However, she didn't doubt that Cullen had a very special ability that allowed him to see far more than any other human she knew. _I have to trust him in this_.

"…dear Andraste, hear my prayer."

Cullen stopped as did his choir of five. Hermione's eyes stayed closed, and she 'listened' into herself. She felt something happening to her hand, felt something leaving her, like blood dripping from her skin. After seconds… minutes… hours she felt Cullen clean her hand with a moist cloth. She could feel his contentment as well as the satisfaction of the five squibs around her.

"It worked," Ginny yell-whispered.

"I'll continue now with your chest," Cullen explained softly. "It will tingle and burn a bit more and I'll have to repeat it a few times for the best effect."

Hermione nodded simply. She would endure this happily if it helped – her and Cullen's circle to prepare for Harry.

.

_**Ministry of Magic – DMLE**_

.

"I'm sorry, Steward Cullen," Amelia stated with open regret in her voice "but I fear I can't do anything about it."

"What do you mean?" Cullen growled. His face was a mask of fury and neither Augusta Longbottom nor Andromeda Tonks, who accompanied him as magical guardians of Neville and Hermione, looked any happier. "This… woman" it wasn't difficult to notice that he actually had some completely different and very unflattering word in mind "harassed students because of their heritage. She cultured bullying and fear at a place that should have felt like a home to them. And she tortured nearly thirty students with a magical item that is illegal even according to your own laws."

"Blood Quills, Amelia," Augusta supported Cullen whole-heartedly. "She used blood quills on them."

Silently Andromeda put pictures on the table, pictures showing scars on many hands, from faint ones of those students that got only detention once to the blaring red one on Harry's hand. Despite treating it with Dittany the lines were clearly readable: _I shall not tell lies_.

"Neither Dittany nor the usual healing spells and potions were able to remove them," Augusta fumed. "Without Steward Cullen's help they would be scarred for the rest of their life." To Cullen's relief, the purging had been a complete success. Hermione's hand was free of scars again as was her chest. You had to look very closely to see the last remains of the injury. After a conference with the four house heads and Augusta in her role as a governor, they agreed on helping the other afflicted students over the course of September.

An additional 'patient' was added to the already long list after Hermione's subdued admission of what she had done to Marietta Edgecombe. She had underestimated the impact of her hex and so far hadn't been able to reverse it. Reconciling the two girls wouldn't be an easy task but something Cullen wanted to tackle nonetheless.

"I know that, damn it," Amelia smashed her fist on the table. "I know that. My own niece was a victim of hers. Believe me: I would love to see her in some deep pit of hell for doing this to our children. But I can't." She looked Augusta straight in the eye. "You knew better than me about the current dispute at the Ministry. Fudge's chair is wobbling right now. There are rumours about a no-confidence vote and Scrimgeour is making his round to get support for pushing him into the Minster's chair. Fudge would have to agree to an investigation and he'll never do that, especially not now. Right now nobody wants to listen to the complaints of some parents or children; nobody wants to get on Umbridge's bad side. This stunt with the Centaurs got her many sympathies and she still has far too much influence; she has far too many politicians in her pocket, be it through past deals or simple blackmail. Even I have no chance to press charges, not now and perhaps never."

"Then I'll have to find another way," Cullen growled, a tad calmer now as he understood Amelia's precarious situation.

"Let me know if I can help you," Amelia announced. "I would like to be able to look into Susan's eyes again without feeling ashamed."

Cullen nodded with a tiny smile. "I will get back to you."

.

_**Ottery St. Catchpole – The Rook**_

.

"The two of you should return to Hogwarts," Cullen stated calmly while helping the twins with their preparations. The Lovegoods would return from their excursion later this day and Cullen, with a little help from Ginny, had convinced the Weasley matriarch to prepare a little welcome back party for her neighbours. The house was mostly ready, everything clean and the meal prepared and waiting under a stasis spell. Ron had – not without much grumbling – weeded the garden in front of the house. The twins announced something called magical firework and Cullen was eager to see their talent in action. He had heard quite a few stories about their pranks already – mostly from the house-elves of Hogwarts – but had never seen them in person.

"Why?" Fred asked, while George only frowned. Both had only laughed about Professor McGonagall's letter, her invitation to return and sit their NEWTs.

"You were nearly done with your education before that Ministry bitch tried to chase you off, weren't you?" Around the three of them he allowed himself to speak more openly about the toad.

Both twins nodded. "Only two months left…"

"…before taking the exam."

"I heard as much. And I heard you're bright enough to easily sit your exam successfully."

"The question stays: why should we?"

"We have other plans, you know?"

"Plans we don't need any NEWTs for."

Cullen sighed and nodded slowly. "I understand. You intend to open that prank shop. You have the brains, the ideas and the money, thanks to Harry."

"He told you?"

Cullen nodded. "I spoke about it with him and Hermione."

Fred groaned; George muttered: "she certainly argued in favour of our return."

"She actually did," Cullen grinned.

"No surprise there."

"She's perhaps right about it," Cullen argued. "However, her reasoning was perhaps a bit different to what you'd expect. It wasn't about a proper graduation or for you to have a backup should you not be as successful as hoped with the shop."

Fred raised one disbelieving eyebrow.

"Alright," Cullen admitted with a grin "perhaps it was that, too. But mostly it was about your mother."

"What about her?" George asked feeling somewhat uneasy. Molly Weasley hadn't been happy to hear about their sudden departure. The twins had to think long and hard to remember ever seeing her so disappointed.

"You know it would mean much to her," Cullen calmly explained. "This… household, family, her children… that's her life. She's not like Hermione, Luna or even Ginny. Your mother has no other aims in her life than rearing her children, making her family happy and seeing them succeed in their life. One year ago you started your seventh year. Don't you think she has been dreaming about your graduation this whole time? She wanted to see you up there, getting your diploma. She wanted to see that smile from Minerva, happy to get rid of you but sad at the same time that Hogwarts will be more boring without you." Both twins smiled thoughtfully at that. They could actually imagine such a reaction from their head of house. "I understand why you left the school that day. But your mother: I think she sees that day and especially your decision not to return this fall as a personal failure."

"Do you really think so?" George asked. His twin looked very thoughtful right now.

"I have a suggestion," Cullen responded instead of directly answering. "Close your eyes. Try to imagine both of you together with your mother. Open your heart and try to imagine her face when you tell her that you'll return, if only for a few weeks, and that you'll sit your NEWTs. How does she look? How does it feel? Answer this question, not to me but to yourself. Then and only then decide about Professor McGonagall's offer to return to Hogwarts."

Cullen had no doubt what they would decide. They were good boys in the end and loved their mother dearly. _Perhaps I'll get a jumper too this Christmas_.

.

"WELCOME BACK!"

Cullen didn't know who looked more surprised: Luna or her father Xenophilius. While Xeno had a 'doe caught in headlight' look, Luna instantly got weepy-eyed. To actually have friends, someone aside from her father who cared about her, cared enough to anxiously await their return, it was nearly too much for her.

Cullen felt anger rise in his heart. Ginny had told him about the past, how the Ravenclaws had treated the girl, ridiculed her for her silly ideas and hidden her shoes. Watching Luna's reaction now was proof that Ginny hadn't exaggerated one bit. He never told the girl, but she had one of the brightest and purest auras he had ever seen. He could watch her in wonder for endless moments. It felt so wrong thinking about anybody hurting her. Ginny rushed to her friend's side and hugged her, while her mother watched the girls proudly. The whole work had been worth it, seeing them like this. Even Ron stopped to grumble, if only because of the prospect of getting some cake in the near future.

"Let me help you with your luggage," Cullen offered. They left Xeno with Molly, Ron and the twins. Ginny lead the way with Luna at her side, while Cullen easily carried the bags. He only allowed Luna to take her worn satchel that moved a bit from time to time. _I wonder if she actually found one of those creatures._ The stairs were narrow and twisted, but Cullen liked the house. It was so different to the cold and clean Circle Tower. It was a real home. There was sorrow in the house, yes. No wonder with Luna's mother dying here in her lab six years ago. But Cullen could feel it too, the love Selene Lovegood left behind to protect her family even from beyond the grave. The Fade was near, Cullen could feel it. But unlike at most other places, here he felt no danger about it. It was like her ghost was shielding the house and driving away all ill-meaning spirits.

"What's that?" Ginny gestured towards the ceiling in Luna's room. Luna only smiled softly.

Cullen looked up and saw a kind of coloured and inscribed ribbon connecting six pictures, pictures showing the happy faces of Ginny, Harry, Hermione, Neville, Ron… and him. Luna was actually very proud of the drawing. She created it before her departure with her father, the pictures of the Ministry adventure fresh on her mind.

"Friendship," Ginny read the word written onto the ribbon.

"It's beautiful, Luna," Cullen admired her handiwork and he meant it. It was quite obvious that Luna had far more artistic talent than him.

"You are my friends, aren't you?" Luna asked timidly.

"No we aren't," Ginny shook her head, hastily adding as she noticed Luna's hurt look "we are more than that: we are best friends forever."

She had barely a moment to prepare herself before Luna jumped her and nearly knocked her down with her embrace. Cullen watched them with a thoughtful look: _best friends forever indeed_. His welcome present burned in his pocket. _I have to speak with her father_, he decided.

.

"What are your intentions regarding my daughter?"

The Weasleys had mostly departed. Only Ginny was left. She would stay overnight with Luna, supposedly talking about the excursion. In the background the wireless was still playing. Cullen had even tried to dance a bit with Molly, Ginny and Luna; trying being the decisive word. He had many talents but dancing wasn't one of them. _Being graceful was different_. However Molly and Ginny had endured it – both being used to dance partners with clumsy feet – and Luna had looked like being on cloud nine.

Cullen knew that Ginny wanted to speak with Luna about the healing he had planned for her. She felt anxious and wanted to beg her friend to be there as well, as a kind of moral support. _It would be good for her_, Cullen agreed, _it would be good for both of them_.

As Cullen didn't answer immediately, Xeno continued. "She told me about your letters and I've seen her write to you. I've seen her face reading your letters. It was very unlike to the ones she got from Hermione and Harry." Xeno wasn't a very attentive man. His thoughts mostly revolved around the Quibbler or some fabulous creature. However, even he noticed how Luna's mood changed every time she got a letter from this young man and how many started letters got crumpled until she was content with the result. The thought of his little moon growing up frightened him.

Cullen blinked. He knew what he wanted to ask the man, but his tongue was like magically tied right now. Luckily he was too distracted by the conversation to note that they weren't alone anymore. Luna had wanted to ask her father about when he intended to visit Diagon Alley with her and now was standing right around the corner, listening closely, her heart bumping rapidly.

"I… I don't know, Xeno," Cullen whispered in the end, causing Xeno to frown and his daughter to mimic the gesture. "I'm certain that's not the answer you wanted to hear, but… this is very difficult to me. I may be twenty but in a way I have even less experience than Harry."

Luna barely suppressed a snigger. Harry – Harry of all people, just the boy who needed years to notice Ginny's crush and who would presumably need another year until he recognized Hermione's feelings.

"You have to understand that for the past seven years I belonged to the church, belonged to the Maker and Andraste with body, heart and soul. There was no space for girls. If I stayed there, I would have taken my vows next summer after my twenty-first birthday. My Commander wanted to promote me to the rank of Templar-Sergeant as soon as possible, a rank that demands certain vows, one of them being the vow of celibacy."

Xeno nodded curtly. Half of what the young man told him he didn't understand, but he had heard about this celibacy thing somewhere.

"With my arrival here, so much has changed. I have a new task: to protect the students of Hogwarts. I'm not certain how long I will be needed at that place. I don't know how long I will stay or if there is even a way for me to ever return home. If you ask me about my intentions, I simply have to say: foremost I want to be Luna's friend. I really like her, care for her. Being near her makes me calm and happy like I've formerly only been while praying."

This was more serious than Xeno had expected. The young man sounded very serious. Still, there was the question of his age. "You're twenty; she's only fifteen."

"I know; she turns sixteen in a few months, doesn't she?" Xeno nodded. "Back home, it's not unusual to marry very early. My mother married my father at the age of fifteen and was barely sixteen at my birth. You realize that according to my experience, Luna is a woman already and no more a girl."

Xeno paled a little. In the magical society engagements were often announced very soon, but even young married couples were eighteen at least, the husband often more leaning towards twenty-five. "So, you want to court her?"

Luckily both men moved a bit around, covering the noise of Luna's little hiccup.

Cullen shook his head: "it wouldn't be fair to do that. With my future so uncertain, I can't…" Cullen stroked his hair with a nervous gesture. "Luna deserves a mate who's there for her: today, next week as well as next year. I can't promise that. However, I would like to spent time with her, naturally in a completely appropriate manner. When my future is clearer to me, I would like to repeat this conversation. Would that be alright for you?"

Luna held her breath. She didn't doubt her father's love but right now it could cause a problem if he saw Cullen as a danger to her honour.

Xeno looked Cullen straight in the eye, nothing of his usual dreamy state perceptible. "I want your promise that you'll always treat her respectfully. Until her next birthday you won't be around her without a third person. And you'll explain to her how you feel, your doubts and reasons for acting like you intend to do." Far softer he continued. "I have no doubt, Cullen: she cares for you. I don't want that she gets her hopes high only to be devastated later."

"I understand, Xeno. I promise to do that."

"Alright, son," Xeno put his hand on Cullen's shoulder. "Then I allow you to spend time with her. But don't you forget: should you ever hurt her, I'll send her friends after you."

Cullen's pale face told Xeno how right he was to assume, that the imagination of an angry Harry, Hermione and Ginny was frightening enough even for Cullen.

Very silently, but with a dreamy smile on her lips, a blond-haired girl slipped away to tell her friend some incredible news.

.

"That was very nice of you," Ginny said softly. Cullen and she were watching Luna who was dozing right now on a couch, a soft blanket gently draped around her and her left hand near her face. She had been staring at it until her eyelids dropped and sleepiness won over her wish to stay awake. Around the wrist she wore Cullen's present, a bracelet created from silver coins, each bearing the depiction of another creature from his Thedas home. None of them were known to Luna or Ginny but some of them actually looked like one of the many weird creatures she was often speaking about. "Most people make fun of her stories about Crumple-horned Snorkacks, Nargles and all the other creatures she believes in."

"I would never do that," Cullen growled quite convincible. His eyes softened as he looked at Luna again. "She would never lie to me. She believes in them. She cares for them. She doesn't hurt anybody with those stories. To mock her would simply be wrong." With a smile he continued: "and in a way it's easier for me."

"How so?" Ginny wondered, feeling happy that Cullen thought this way.

"I'm new to this world. I'm not constrained by experience and knowledge. I assume it's much more difficult for someone like Hermione to believe Luna than for me."

"You're right about that," Ginny grinned. "But she's softening up. Nobody can resist Luna in the long run."

"No," Cullen agreed. "Resistance is futile."

.

_**A/N**_

_A bit more Luna at last. Next time: Start of the new school year._


	8. Chapter 8 New School Year

_**A/N**_

_Thanks to Butterfly83 this story is now beta-read, too._

**.**

**New School Year**

.

_**Forbidden Forest – 26**__**th**__** of August**_

.

„Hagrid is not happy with you, Cullen. "

Cullen glanced in Bill Weasley's direction and nodded sadly. "I know. It wasn't an easy decision but one that had to be done. I only hope that he'll understand one day."

"It certainly didn't help that his brother isn't around anymore."

"Grawp?" Bill nodded. "He isn't completely away, only… resettled. Headmaster Dumbledore found him a cave more to the north."

"Oh," Bill frowned "I didn't know about that part. I only heard about the Centaurs demanding to take him away from the forest." The Centaurs were certainly very tolerant and patient about other races and creatures, but Grawp posed too much of a threat for their foals with his mix of incredible strength, clumsiness and stupidity. There had been more than one quarrel between them and a protective Hagrid already.

"I'm not really content with the solution but I understand his reasoning. Grawp is Hagrid's only family. He deserves to get at least the chance to attempt to make this work. Albus will put some wards around the area for trespassers and to keep Grawp within the area. It will be nice for Grawp to have more leeway than before. Did you know that Hagrid had him roped to a tree for months?"

Bill sighed. "Sometimes I really question his…" He made a circling motion like questioning Hagrid's mind.

"I share the feeling." Cullen snickered. "Hermione and Luna still convinced me. They like both Hagrid and Grawp. He calls her Hermy."

"And she allows that?" Bill doubtingly asked, earning only a shrug for an answer. He remembered how Hermione usually reacted to nicknames. Not even Viktor had been allowed to use one and he was a famous international Quidditch player. According to Ginny most girls had envied Hermione for fetching such a date to the Yule Ball two years ago.

"Hagrid wants to train him as his assistant."

"What?" Bill's eyes widened. "He wants him to teach the children?"

"No, Hagrid wants him to assist as a groundskeeper. What are you thinking? I would never allow him around children. It was bad enough with Hagrid..." Cullen sighed. "He'll be demoted to assistant teacher, you know?"

"Because of the creatures he brought to the lessons in the past?"

Cullen nodded unhappily: "This and because of the accidents that happened since he started to teach three years ago. I know it was Draco's fault that he got injured a few years ago, but it was also Hagrid's duty to take precautions. He's simply unable to grasp that some creatures aren't meant to be around children, that they are dangerous and not… fluffy."

Bill grinned as he remembered the stories about the Cerberus. Apparently he was still living in the forest, happy to have his freedom and playing tag with a well-known Ford Angelica.

"It doesn't help that he has this urge to collect dangerous creatures and to even break the law cross-breeding them."

"Perhaps he should be groundkeeper only once again."

"He loves children, Bill. Thanks to Voldemort and Malfoy his life hasn't been easy. He's far too gullible and too trusting in Dumbledore's wisdom above all, but he has a big heart in the right place. Harry and his friends love him. Hagrid deserves happiness too. He only has to learn. This year, he'll be on probation. Professor Kettleburn will return and teach him a few things. She has orders to especially speak with Hagrid about appropriate creatures, how to prepare the lessons and take precautions. If all goes well, he'll be professor again next year and teach alone. However, he'll have to keep to Kettleburn's teaching plans and get Minerva's permission for every change. No more blast-ended Skrewts, no dragons and cerberi, and no Thestrals who are invisible to most students. It's not how he would like it to be, but…"

"But it's better this way and at least he can continue teaching," Bill agreed and Cullen nodded, hoping that Hagrid would really see reason after a while.

.

"Greetings, Magorian, may the stars always watch over you and guide your clan," Cullen bowed deeply, hoping the greeting words he learned from Mathilda would be alright in the Centaur's opinion.

"Greetings, wanderer," Magorian responded calmly, eyeing him and his companions warily. His eyes rested a long time on the two dozen Goblins that followed him. "Cages?" he asked as he noticed the wagon, drawn by a couple of ox-like, six-legged creatures and loaded with four big cages.

"We want to capture a few of the younger specimen. Some of them will be sold, others put into an Irish reserve." Hagrid had tried to convince him to relocate the whole colony back to their home country, Borneo. However, this would be impractical, dangerous and expensive. According to his knowledge there were more than 200 of them, dozens of them bigger than a dog. The impact of such a huge number of healthy Acromantulas would be dire and dangerous to the ecological balance of the country's wildlife. In the end they decided to kill most of the creatures.

Cullen had gathered help from the goblins – paying them off with a share of the profit to be gained from selling components like Acromantula poison and silk – in the form of twenty warriors, and half a dozen curse-breakers like Bill. The Centaurs had been eager to help as well. A dozen of them were following Magorian into the fight, bows at the ready. Cullen had been surprised the other day as Magorian informed him about his intent not to only allow this spider hunt but to even be an active part of it. Apparently the Acromantulas were too much of a danger to the forest even for the Centaurs to ignore any longer. Without Dumbledore's constant interventions they would have tried something years ago.

The biggest issue had been the fate of Hagrid's old friend Aragog. While Cullen – with a little help from Harry, telling his big friend about the time Ron and he had been attacked by the spiders – had been able to convince Hagrid about the necessity to kill the smaller spiders, he absolutely rejected the idea of harming Aragog. The spider patriarch was very old now and bigger than a horse. It would be difficult but Cullen wanted to at least try to spare its life.

_We'll have to wait and see._

.

With a nightmare-inducing shriek the pony-sized Acromantula went to the ground, Cullen's sword sticking between his mandibles, still clicking in his death. Cullen offered the Goblin warrior, who had nearly been overwhelmed by the beast, a helping hand to stand up, while Bill froze a couple of smaller spiders with an ice spell to allow them to recover. The Goblin curtly nodded towards the armoured human warrior, gripped the handle of his sword and scuttled away to help Magorian's Centaurs. They were circling one of Aragog's mates, more than a dozen arrows already sticking in its bloated body.

"We're a good team," Bill grinned.

Cullen agreed. His pure physical power complimented Bill's spells quite well. More than once he had shielded him from being overwhelmed by the sheer mass of the smaller spiders, while Bill was incredible effective in slowing them down with ice spells or burning them with magical fire. With his armour protecting him against the smaller specimen, Cullen's shield had proven to be especially helpful in the fights. More than once he took point against the biggest spiders, allowing the Goblins to tear it apart without too much danger. Continuing to fight, chopping legs and cleaving bodies, Cullen pondered about his old home. More often than not, mages and Templars were fighting against each other instead of forming a unified front. Dwarves and Elves were rarely seen as allies too. Most humans in Thedas only saw them as some kind of animals. His comrades could certainly learn something from watching Bill and him now fighting side by side with Goblins and Centaurs.

The last big spider was down, the path free into the centre of the spiders' colony. Organizing his forces – the Goblins forming a wedge with the curse-breakers in the middle, and the Centaurs covering their advance with their bows – he led them into the heart of the Acromantula colony. There weren't many spiders left. More than one hundred had been slain; nearly a score of the smaller ones had been caught. That left around three dozen, approximately the same number scurrying around in the woods. They were led by two of Aragog's mates and Aragog himself, the spider patriarch towering over his brood.

"He's blind," Magorian noticed. He seemed to be right: Aragog's eyes were white and he moved around slowly and hesitantly like he had to feel his path with his legs.

"What's the plan?"

.

"It was a good fight."

Bill's eyes widened as the Goblin leading the small force clasped hands with Cullen in a warrior greeting. This gesture was highly irregular and a show of respect. It needed years of working as a curse-breaker before his Goblin colleagues behaved like this towards him.

"Yes, it was," Cullen responded with a curt nod. Ignoring the thick layer of spider remains on his armour as well as the incredible smell, Cullen said farewell to the Centaurs as well and watched them depart. The Goblins would stay for a few days to dispose of the spiders and gather everything worthwhile while the Centaurs would hunt for the remaining spiders before they started to pose a danger again.

"We had no real choice, Cullen," Bill said softly, guessing the reason of Cullen's dark mood: Aragog's death.

"I know," Cullen barked, continuing somewhat calmer: "it doesn't make it any easier to tell Hagrid."

And it wasn't. Aragog had already been dying. Leaving him behind without a few other spiders would have been like damning him to a slow starvation death. And it would have been dangerous as any surviving spider would be far more aggressive now. In Bill's eyes the spider patriarch deserved to die since he allowed his pack to attack Ron and Harry.

Still: Hagrid wouldn't be happy, not at all.

.

_**Hogwarts – Great Hall – 1**__**st**__** of September**_

.

"Thank you for the ride, Cullen."

Cullen blushed but overall accepted Luna's gratitude graciously. It had certainly drawn much attention to the dreamy-eyed Ravenclaw, seeing the new Steward of Hogwarts waiting for her at the station. Luna's mood, as she missed him on the train, dramatically improved seeing him there with Antares, the lead stallion of the herd of Thestrals. Many eyes widened as he helped her climb onto the broad back of the stallion, taking a seat behind him. With the Thestral invisible to most eyes, it was certainly an unusual sight to see them flying above. Cullen, who was an experienced rider but unused to flying, had directed it to stay below a height of thirty feet. Luna enjoyed it nonetheless.

"Harry told me how much you like Thestrals and about your flight to the Ministry on one of them."

A few minutes later they landed in front of the castle and waited for the students to arrive. Minerva had agreed on allowing Cullen to be the one greeting the new students and leading them into the hall. In his opinion the first minutes at Hogwarts and the sentences spoken could make a long-lasting impression on the elven-year-olds. It was far too easy to remember the frightened faces of new apprentices, delivered to the tower by fearsome steel-clad Templar, more than once bound because they wanted to flee.

Group by group the older students arrived. A few like Harry and his friends smiled, many stared openly but everybody noticed that Luna remained at Cullen's side the whole time. He wanted to make a point and had agreed with Harry on assuring that Luna's remaining years at Hogwarts would be very unlike to the previous harassed ones. Cullen made a mental list of the students that gave them a wide berth, be it because the situation disgusted them, or because of Antares' presence.

"See you later," Luna made her farewell. Perhaps it was wrong that he allowed the tiny girl to pull him down and place a kiss on his cheek. It was certainly proof of favouritism. But today he didn't mind and Luna wasn't somebody who would ever take advantage.

_Now however, it was time for the newbies._

.

"You'll get sorted in one of the four houses of Hogwarts. For your time at this school, your house will be something like a family. There will be family members you won't like too much; there will be housemates who do have not much in common with you. However, you all belong together. Help each other, especially in the first weeks. Some Firsties have more problems with home sickness than others. Some need more privacy or have different views on things like tidiness. Give it a real try; get to know the others and help them along. The staff wants Hogwarts to be a place of learning and living, a place for you to remember kindly later in your life. We therefore won't accept any bullying, insulting or inconsideration. You don't have to like each other, but you have to be polite and helpful."

He looked around, trying his best to appear determined and confident but caring at the same time. He gestured towards the pair of house-elves standing at his side. One was a young female with a broad smile, the other an older male who looked very grumpy.

"These are house-elves, as the magically raised among you certainly know. Their names are Ciddy and Paddock. They belong to the dozens of house-elves that serve Hogwarts. They are the ones that create your delicious meals, who clean your clothes and organize the feasts. They like to help and serve but I expect you to be polite to them."

A few faces showed clear signs of disapproval, like something as this was below them.

"Should you need something special like a birthday cake for a friend or a hot chocolate for an upset housemate, you may call Ciddy and her friends. Don't abuse of that priviledge. Should you do that, should I hear about disrespectful behaviour or students that have a tendency of untidiness, then there will be consequences. This may include a denial of the service of house-elves, meagre meals or detention with Paddoc."

Paddoc smiled for the first time and it wasn't a pleasant sight. A few of the students didn't look happy about this, but he was far too impressing to object right now.

"A word about Caretaker Filch: like the house-elves he's serving Hogwarts and has been a part of the castle for decades now. He's a bit grumpy and most students don't like him very much. However, I expect you to be polite to him and not to make his work anymore difficult than necessary. If he forbids you to do something, it's not to torment you but because it is dangerous. You may think it to be funny to jump from stairs to stairs, to sneak around after curfew or visit places you are not meant to go. However, it is Mister Filch's duty to assure that you survive your stay at Hogwarts with a minimum of trouble or visits to the Hospital wing and to make life in the castle pleasant for everybody. Have this in mind the next time he's yelling at you."

Cullen smiled faintly. Argus had started to change his behaviour and he hoped this would continue.

"A last word before we start with the sorting: while the chosen house is your family, this doesn't stop you from being friends with members of other houses. There is a competition between the houses, especially regarding Quidditch, but there is no need to overdo. Don't hate, despise or insult members of other houses. You'll experience tensions between the older students. Don't take an example on their behaviour but rather make up your own mind. This year the staff will start a number of changes, one of them will be the promotion of inter-house activities. Please give this a try.

"And now: let's go. May a new and hopefully happy chapter of your life begin."

.

The sorting had gone well so far. The meal had been delicious with the tiny change of some of the house-elves being visible this evening. It brought a smile to Cullen's lips how some of the new students made a serious attempt at being polite to the tiny servants. Some of the older students frowned, while others started to imitate the behaviour – especially after one student, who had been very outspoken in his disgust about 'treating those creatures with respect' suddenly found only old bread, stale cheese and flat water within reach. A housemate who offered him something from his own plate, soon found himself sharing his fate.

Headmaster Dumbledore had already announced the change regarding 'Care of magical Creatures' and now continued, gesturing towards and elderly man at his side:

"This year Potions will be taught by Professor Slughorn. He has been teaching Potions before and agreed to return for one year, as Professor Snape will be teaching DADA this year."

The announcement drew groans and clapping in equal parts. Cullen wasn't certain about the reason behind Dumbledore's decision. He had obviously been especially eager to get Slughorn back to Hogwarts and Cullen didn't think that Potion was the main reason behind this. At least Severus seemed to be content. He had been eager to teach DADA for years. Because of the infamous curse on the position it wasn't expected that he would last longer than one year. However, Cullen hoped to change this during the school year.

"Another change concerns Mrs Narcissa Malfoy." He gestured towards the woman sitting between Cullen and Severus. "Mrs Malfoy will be living at Hogwarts for the foreseeable future. To make good use of her time, she agreed to start a number of voluntary lessons. In a way, these will be an experiment, the result certainly influencing the board of governors in their decision on whether we want to continue and make them a permanent part of the curriculum. Mrs Malfoy will give lessons in customs and practices in the magical society. Naturally it is mostly meant to help Muggle-raised students to integrate into a world foreign to them but everybody will be welcome. In addition there will be lessons in etiquette as well as the differences between magical and Muggle family law and contracts. For interested students from third year up there will be dancing lessons every Tuesday evening."

Cullen was still learning about this new world and intended to participate in these lessons as often as possible. When Dumbledore mentioned the last part, Cullen's eyes searched for Luna and made a gesture like dancing. Luna instantly agreed with a happy nod. _Cullen could certainly use the training_.

Narcissa noticed this and smiled mischievously: "it's certainly a good idea to be fast in assuring a dancing partner."

Taking the floor she continued. "Speaking of voluntary classes: your house heads will distribute a list this week. We want to know if there is interest about a new class in French and/or Italian. Steward Cullen and I are willing to offer such classes if there is enough interest on your side."

Cullen had actually been very surprised to learn that his knowledge in Orlaisian and Antivan – the second language mostly in written form – had transferred into a good grasp of French and Italian in this world. He had agreed to help Narcissa with her plans to offer a second language training, one of the many weak points of the curriculum at Hogwarts. He would wait and see how many students were interested before he addressed Minerva with his plans about additional classes in physical education. Running, swimming and fencing – he loved those activities and wanted to share this with others.

_We can't change everything at once. I'll have to be patient. _

.

The welcome feast was nearly done. Cullen watched the students leaving for their houses. After learning about the Slyterhin tradition to appoint third and fourth year mentors to the first and second year students, he had been eager to convince the other house heads to give this a try. As expected the Hufflepuffs had fewer qualms than the Gryffindors, who rejected it because it was a snake-idea, or the Ravenclaws, who didn't like the idea of losing study time. Hopefully the idea would still gain acceptance.

_Let the studies begin._

.

_**Hogwarts – Blue Salon – two weeks later**_

.

"They're a cute couple."

Cullen followed Luna's eyes to the spot where Narcissa was dancing with Argus Filch. He proved to be a surprisingly good dancer and was a steady addition to the training sessions taking place in the Blue Salon. It was one of the mostly unused rooms of the old castle, a room that had been the location for many smaller parties of the older students and staff in former times. There was even a magical piano, its soft music now filling the air.

"I don't know about 'cute'," Cullen smiled "but they're certainly very elegant. I assume no living student has ever seen him like this."

"Oh, I don't know," Luna responded thoughtfully, resting her chin on her finger. "If I remember correctly, he danced with Professor Trelawney at the Yule Ball two years ago."

The first two weeks had already proven to bring a change to Hogwarts, with Argus Filch's new appearance and behaviour certainly at the top of the list. A new hairstyle, a clean shave and different robes had been part of this. Far more important was the difference in his bearing. With a new potion and salve regimen against arthritis, regular sport and the effect of the training with Cullen, he looked younger and healthier. He was still grumpy but was more willing to accept kindness from the younger students. Matron Mathilda had a cup of tea with him from time to time and Cullen made a point of inviting him to the staff meetings. In his mind, Argus was a member of the staff like Hagrid and the others and should be treated as such. Surprisingly – or not – he was especially close to Severus, the two men sharing many traits.

"My feet have recovered, Cullen."

Cullen blushed for a moment. He still felt bad about maltreating her feet but Luna was adamant about continuing to dance only with him. More than once she had even shooed away other girls daring to ask him for a dance, her usually so friendly face turning into a harpy at those moments. So he offered his arm again. "Then let's dance, my fair lady."

.

"You're a disgrace to every pureblood."

Cullen had stayed behind to speak with Narcissa and Argus. As they followed the students a few minutes later, they came across a group of students harassing Luna. Defiantly she stood against them. She tried not to show it but Cullen felt her fear. Too often she had been the victim of cruel pranks and insults. This year she had hoped for this to change. Had she been wrong? Cullen moved to go to her rescue but felt himself stopped by Narcissa.

"Let's wait and see," she whispered, her eyes resting on her son. "Allow him a chance at redeeming himself."

The Slytherins had been torn between accepting the new Draco and outright attacking him. He mostly kept to Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs now, with only a few Slytherins willing and brave enough to be at least polite towards him. The group harassing Luna consisted mostly of Slytherins and Ravenclaws of fifth and sixth year, the ring-leaders being Lisa Turpin and Pansy Parkinson. More students of both houses 'watched the show', unwilling to lean to either side too soon. The only ones willing to defend her these days were Ginny Weasley and surprisingly Marietta Edgecomb. Cho Chang's former friend and one of Luna's top tormentors in the past had done a 180 degree turn after Hermione lifted the curse of her face. A summer with a face telling 'Sneak' to everybody had chastened her and got her thinking.

"Leave her alone, Pansy," Draco drawled, instantly gaining everybody's attention. Ginny's eyes widened at the realization of who wanted to help, while Luna only smiled softly and shortly winked in Cullen's direction. "Turpin, didn't you learn anything about house solidarity?"

"She doesn't belong to us," Lisa Turpin sneered.

"Oh?" Draco smirked. He stepped nearer and poked at the trim of Luna's robe. "Mmm, Ravenclaw robe, bookworm extraordinaire and best student of her year as far as I've been told. Sounds like a 'Claw to me. Alright," he admitted "she has this annoying Hufflepuff loyalty and this disturbing Gryffindor braveness about her too, but nobody is perfect."

"Thank you," Luna smiled, while Ginny was apparently still tried to solve this puzzle named Draco Malfoy.

"Stay out of this, Malfoy," Nott demanded. Since Draco lost his position as the Prince of Slytherin, he had tried to usurp the position – without much success so far. At least he had gained Pansy as his girlfriend, not that Draco saw any benefit in that success.

"Nope," Draco simply shook his head and stepped between Luna and her tormentors "Can't do that". Defiantly he stared into Nott's eyes and waited what would happen. However, before the quarrel had a chance to escalate into a full-grown battle, Daphne's cool voice interrupted them.

"Don't be stupid, Nott." Pansy and her friends turned around, more than a little miffed by her interruption but also too surprised to instantly jump down her throat. The 'ice queen' rarely took an active part in any quarrels and mostly kept to herself. Only Tracey and Blaise were allowed to see her true self from time to time.

"You're really eager to get some detentions with Paddoc, aren't you?" Her smile turned into a feral grin as a shiver run down the students' backs. "Didn't you listen to Steward Cullen's speeches about house unity and inter-house friendship? Do you have any idea about the amount of trouble you get into with attacking another student? Do you have any idea how Steward Cullen would react to an attack on her?" She pointed towards Luna who was listening like all this wouldn't concern her.

"I don't fear that Squib," Nott sneered.

"Then you're even more stupid than I assumed," Draco sneered back.

"Why are you helping her?" Pansy sounded far more uncertain than she wanted too. This wasn't going as expected by far. She looked a little sad.

"Three reasons," Draco's voice actually softened. He never had romantic feelings towards the pug-nosed girl but she had been his friend for a long time. "First I wanted to protect you. I was on the receiving end of Steward Cullen's abilities. I don't want you to experience the same, Pansy. I still care for you. You have been my friend. It was you who stopped being friends not I."

Theo wanted to say something but this only earned him a slap. "Quiet," Greg Goyle growled, his big thump pointing towards Draco: "boss is speaking." Unlike Vince he didn't notice Millicent's appreciative look.

Draco curtly nodded in Greg's direction before he continued. "Second: I actually listened to the man. I'm not certain about all this 'we're one big happy loving family' crap, but I'm willing to give it a try. Hell, there is even a rare Gryffindor or two I'm able to endure without vomiting. Granger is a good potions partner and Longbottom is actually alright, if a bit of a pansy – no pun intended, Pansy."

Pansy actually smiled. Only Draco knew of her tiny crush on the timid boy back in fourth year.

"Only Weaselbee and that Brown-slut I could really live without – nothing against you, Weaslette." His apology sounded nearly honest.

Ginny only shrugged. "I know what you mean. They're a tad disgusting to watch with all that face-sucking. Ron never had good taste about girls."

Draco actually grinned, his grin broadening as Ginny blushed. Turning serious again Draco addressed Pansy again: "and third: I owe him. You have no idea how much." His eyes got a faraway expression. "The Dark Lord wanted to force me to take his mark this summer, Pansy."

Pansy sobbed and Greg and Vince shuffled uneasily. There had been talking with their fathers over the summer that they should take the mark around Christmas or next summer at most.

"I didn't want to, Pansy." Pansy frowned and Draco tried to explain. "My world view didn't change, not very much at least. I still think that we're superior to Muggles. I still think that purebloods are better than Muggleborns – aside from a few crazy exceptions like Granger. And with the rumours about her father being a squib perhaps not even her. But this doesn't mean I have to insult and attack her at every second. It certainly doesn't mean that I have to torture and kill them."

His face turned into a mask of disgust. "Dear father told me about the last war, how they attacked Muggles and Muggleborn, invaded their houses, tortured children in front of their parents, raped women while their men had to watch." More than a few Slytherins and Ravenclaws looked very pale now. His voice barely a whisper, Draco asked: "Do you really think I wanted to be part of this?" He shook his head, answering his own question. "I couldn't. The Dark Lord however wanted to force me. To punish my father for not being able to win against six students – two of them standing right behind me – he wanted to force me to take the Dark Mark. He even threatened my mother if I didn't comply. I would have been forced to do it if not for Steward Cullen. He protects me; he protects my mother. I can never repay him for this."

He looked around, his face frightening. "So listen, and listen well: you don't have to befriend Luna. You don't have to spend time with her. But never again will you insult, prank or attack her. And now get lost."

"He's really growing up," Cullen whispered. Narcissa could only nod proudly.

.

_**Ministry of Magic – DMLE**_

.

"Good morning, Dolores. What brings you to me on this wonderful morning?" Amelia Bones felt like biting in a lemon but she had offered Cullen her help so she had to go through with this – despite her ardent wish to attach a ball and chains to Dolores' ankle and dump her somewhere over the North Sea.

As an answer, Dolores smashed a newspaper on Amelia's desk. It was today's Daily Prophet and in no way a surprise to Amelia. She had already expected this visit three days ago, as the same article had been part of the Quibbler then – on the 15th of September of all days, Dolores name's day as the Quibbler's author, a young but talented lady, hadn't forgotten to mention. Apparently, while Dolores was happy to ignore the Quibbler, she couldn't do the same with the Prophet. Her office would be flooded with letters and howlers in no time if she didn't stop this very soon.

"Oh, this," Amelia said softly, careful to look down on the newspaper not to betray her malicious smile. There, in broad letter, was the headline that infuriated her 'guest' so much:

**Dolorous Piñata in the Forbidden Forest**

Below the headline were a number of pictures, the biggest one showing Dolores bound to a tree branch like a pig – or a Piñata – and some Centaurs poking her with long sticks.

The article told, very verbosely and vividly, how Dolores had been tricked into accompanying two students into the forbidden forest, believing a half-cooked story about some secret weapon to overthrow the whole world. Dolores certainly came across as a somewhat unhinged woman seeing enemies that were out to kill her everywhere. The article didn't fail to mention her 'Decrees', her silly title as 'High Inquisitor' nor her getting Headmistress after chasing off Dumbledore because of a study group – a study group that was necessary because of her obvious lack of talent in the subject. Somehow the Quibbler had been able to get a copy of her NEWT exam. It was even worse than Amelia had assumed. Neither the attack on Minerva, the use of Veritaserum on students, nor the blood quill detentions would get her any brownie points.

_Dolorous, that's funny_, Amelia grinned, knowing full well the meaning of Dolores' name. Allowing Dolores some time to fully explode, she carefully read the article, her eyes lingering especially on the part about the Centaurs dishing out justice. She knew that Dolores wanted to extract revenge against them, but so far she had now legal ground doing so: the Forbidden Forest was their home, according to the old contracts.

"I want you to stop this slandering," Dolores fumed, her face red as a tomato. She looked like a toad seconds before exploding because of some firecracker in her stomach. _Her face colour clashes awfully with that pink cardigan of hers_, Amelia noticed slightly amused.

"So this is untrue?" Amelia asked with her sweetest smile.

"Err, yes," Dolores eagerly nodded without conviction. _At least she's not deranged enough to believe it herself_.

"I understand," Amelia instant agreement started Dolores a bit. "Then this should be easy." Dolores smiled happily, her smiled vanishing as Amelia continued. "You only have to make a statement under Veritaserum at the court that these accusations are lies."

"I don't think this would be necessary, Amelia," Dolores said with false friendliness. "Certainly my word…"

"Wouldn't be enough, Dolores," Amelia responded with equally false regret in her voice. She put a number of letters on her desk. "There have been a number of enquiries from parents all over Britain. They want to know what I intend to do about the blood quill and Veritaserum matters."

"I did this with the Minister's approval…"

"Who will certainly support your claim," Amelia nodded, knowing well that Fudge would do no such thing, especially not now. "Perhaps he gave you a written permission about allowed measures," she tried to help. "It would certainly ease the case."

She pointed towards another bunch of letters. "These are from a number of Slytherin parents. They want to clear their children's names before things get out of hand. Apparently you instigated a… how did you call it," she shuffled through the letter "ah, yes, Inquisitorial Squad. According to the letters there have been numerous assaults on other students in your name; Professor McGonagall and Steward Cullen addressed the board of governors because of this. The concerned parents ascertained me that their children only behaved in such a way because they felt pressured by you into doing this. Poor children," Amelia sighed. "It's not nice to force children into behaving like bullies, Dolores."

Susan hadn't liked the idea to allow the squad members to go unpunished but accepted that this time they were after a bigger fish. It had helped that some of those Slytherins apparently started to change their behaviour since the start of the school year. Malfoy, Goyle and Bulstrode even went so far as to apologize to some but not all of their former victims.

"Lies, all lies," Dolores shouted. "McGonagall hates me."

"She has her reasons, has she not?" Amelia's eyes narrowed and she watched her intensely. "Here is an official inquiry about four of my Aurors attacking an unarmed professor. Steward Cullen wants to know to which extent they were acting as Aurors and how much influence you had on this disgusting act of unprovoked violence. Dolores: as a steward of Hogwarts it is his right to press charges against the DMLE. This would force me to officially censure three of the Aurors and sack Senior Auror Dawlish – if he fails to convince me that he followed your orders."

Dolores paled visibly. Forced to choose between getting sacked and putting the blame at her feet, she had no doubt about Dawlish's decision. McGonagall and Cullen – those two were responsible for this disaster. _How dared they?_

"You see, Dolores," Amelia summarized "irrespective of my feelings towards you" her eyes told Dolores enough about the nature of those feelings "I have no choice but to demand a statement under Veritaserum before I can put a stop to this… this slander."

Dolores actually wobbled a bit under this constant attack of bad news. In the end she said hoarsely: "I think I'll need a good barrister."

"I think that's a good idea," Amelia dead-panned. She waited for Dolores to leave her office before she allowed herself to express her joy. "Take this, bitch," she snickered making an air-punch.

.

_**Hogwarts – Great Hall – 29**__**th**__** of September – Sunday afternoon**_

.

All students had gathered in the Great Hall after being ordered to do so by their Heads of Houses. Their whole attention was on the staff table now, mostly on those faces so far unknown to them. It was obvious that not all teachers were too happy about their presence. Especially Headmaster Dumbledore looked like someone had killed his cat. Minerva McGonagall however made a believable impression of the cat who finally got the canary. Cullen watched her with a content smile. She had turned into a steadfast ally this school year, more and more supporting his plans and ideas, furthering them with her in depth knowledge of the magical society. Some of the changes wouldn't have been possible without her help, especially with the Headmaster doing his best to stall him.

Yesterday had been exhausting in the extreme and he was happy to allow Minerva to take the lead. Turning towards the Gryffindor table, he smiled contently as he noticed Luna beside a very relaxed Ginny. The healing had only taken place 24 hours ago but the effect was clearly visible to everybody who knew her. Ginny had slept more than twelve hours afterwards and her eyes now held nothing of the sadness that had been there for years. Most traces of the dark magic had left her aura and while she would never be able to completely forget about the events in the Chamber of Secrets, her mind wouldn't feel the dark emotions that had controlled her life far too long under the same intensity.

It had been one of the most emotional discussions between him, Albus and Minerva, to speak about the lack of support for students under distressing experiences. Neither Ginny nor Harry and his friends got any consultation with a mind healer in the past. Even back at the Circle Tower it was well-known that some experiences needed support in order to handle them in a healthy manner. Especially the weeks after the taxing Harrowing made it mandatory to organize such a help. The human mind, especially the mind of a teenager, was such a fragile thing.

Cullen sighed. Tomorrow he would visit the Department of Mysteries and Croaker. They would destroy the diadem and another Horcrux would be gone for good. He already received a letter from the Unspeakable a few days ago, telling him that the examination had been successful and that Croaker was ready to go through with his part of the deal. _One less worry_, Cullen mused, before he concentrated on Minerva's speech again.

"…the Forbidden Forest stays forbidden and dangerous," Minerva just explained. "But with the spiders gone we got rid of one of the bigger threats not only to us but all inhabitants of the forest."

It was certainly no surprise to see Hagrid absent. He still hadn't forgiven him for the death of his friend Aragog.

"A very positive side effect of the spider hunt was the money Hogwarts earned for selling the animal parts. We will use the money on a number of necessary improvements and changes at our beloved school," Minerva continued. She clapped into her hands and five batches of owls came flying into the Hall, each batch carrying something that could only be a broom. They landed in front of Madam Hooch and the captains of the four house teams. Unwrapping the packages, they found a Firebolt each.

"Each team gets seven new brooms, naturally not all of them Firebolts as there are other brooms more appropriate for Beaters and Keepers. Twenty more will be used by Madam Hooch for a new voluntary flying class for third years and up. In addition we'll exchange our outdated school training brooms for new Cleansweeps." This made sense because it would be irresponsible to sit untrained Firsties on racing brooms.

Minerva waited for the cheering to die down before she pointed towards a face known to older students: Penelope Clearwater. "The staff always found that the families of Muggleborn learn far too late about our world and are left alone with a difficult situation. We're in negotiations with the Ministry to change this. To get a head start, we decided to use a part of the spider money to hire Miss Clearwater as our new Muggleborn liaison. Her duties will be threefold: counsel the families of Muggleborn and inform them about the ongoing events at our school." There wouldn't be a repetition of petrified students without any information delivered to their parents.

"Secondary she will teach a new subject called 'Basics of the Magical world' to our first years with additional voluntary classes for older students. It is meant to help them understand the world they're now a part of." Not everybody would be happy about this but Cullen hoped that it would ease the relations between purebloods and Muggleborn in the long run. At least a part of the prejudices the purebloods held towards Muggleborns stemmed from their lack of knowledge about customs in this foreign world.

"Last but not least," she gestured a middle-aged man sitting between Professor Vector and Professor Flitwick to stand up. "We're happy to welcome our new History teacher, Professor Barnabas Bagshot, nephew of the famous historian Bathilda Bagshot." Her next words were drowned by wild cheering from all sides. Even the usually more subdued Slytherins were happy about getting rid of the boring ghost. "We expect to see rising grades in history and bigger NEWT classes in the near future." This earned her a round of laughter. "Professor Bagshot already announced that he'll invite guest speakers from the tribe of Centaurs living in our forest as well as the Goblins. We have heard about the Goblins only in endless repetitions of the Goblin wars for far too long. I hope you'll agree that we should know more about those beings that guard our home and manage our money."

Albus had tried to stop this, fearing the opposition of the older families. Luckily, Cullen found himself fully supported not only by Minerva but also by Madam Sprout and Professor Flitwick. For decades they had demanded a change about history lessons. Albus had always stopped them with speeches about the financial side. They wouldn't allow him to stop them again.

.

The speeches had stopped after a long and boring list of smaller changes, one of them drawing a round of laughter again: the vanishing step would be exchanged for a sturdier one. Why the staff had allowed this security risk to exist for so long, completely slipped Cullen's mind. Regretfully it wasn't possible to completely redo the whole 'changing stairs' construction. They would continue to annoy students on their way to their classes.

The students woke from their slumber when Ciddy and her friends started to distribute all kind of cake and sweets, some of them even Centaur and Goblin crafted. Those were more topics of conversation than eating, with only a few very daring students actually trying them. Now however the last act of the day was on its way to happen. On Cullen's sign the door to the Great Hall opened and a number of Goblins entered. Two of them, carrying a cauldron and case of vials, stopped in front of the Professors Snape and Slughorn.

"Professors, we all know how many ingredients get squandered and how many cauldrons destroyed over the course of a school year. Because of this, a part of the money has been used to deliver a batch of both parts to your lab and set up deposits at your favourite apothecaries. Make good use of them." Snape simply nodded while Slughorn was obviously ecstatic.

Now, with Cullen fully visible as he started to walk towards the Gryffindor table with half a dozen Goblins in tow, it became obvious that he wasn't wearing his usual clothes. Instead he wore a fantastic looking, slightly glittering black vest/trousers combination with a long flowing cape. The knowledgeable among the older students realized that these pieces were crafted from Acromantula silk. They showed on his chest the crest he had started to use for a while now: Castle and Flaming Sword, a mix of the crests of Hogwarts and Andraste. It certainly made quite an impression and more than one pair of eyes got dreamy.

The six Goblins stopped in front of Harry, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Hermione and Luna, each of them getting a medium-sized package.

"You six were the reason for my arrival at this world, if a bit involuntarily," Cullen added with a thoughtful smile. "I wanted to thank you. Please accept these small tokens of my gratitude."

One by one robes of Acromantula silk became visible. "Each of you will get three sets of robes. The tailor promised me that they'll adapt to your growing size." Each of them would get a dagger crafted from an Acromantula fang, too, but Cullen assumed that they were more appropriately presented in private.

With no small amount of envy the other students watched the six students put on their new robes, especially Ron and Ginny were ecstatic to have something that wasn't second hand or ill-fitting. Ron and Ginny had the Weasley crest on their, while Neville and Harry showed their status as Scions of their respective Houses. Luna smiled towards Hermione, who found the crest of House Tonks on her robe's shoulder, the colours telling everybody that she was under their protection: "I like the crest, 'Mione, but I hope we'll see another crest there in no time." Harry blushed, proving that he understood the not overly veiled hint. He would have to speak about this with Sirius.

The last one was Luna's and while it was no surprise to see the Lovegood crest on her chest, the second smaller one on her shoulder certainly was: the crest of Steward Cullen.

"I hope this is alright," Cullen asked surprisingly timid, his finger snipping away some invisible lint from her shoulder.

"It is," Luna beamed back. Only her eyes told him that she hoped to one day switch the crest from her shoulder to her chest. "It certainly is."

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_**Dream or Reality?**_

.

The entrance of their Dark Lord startled the Death Eaters present at that moment and prompted them to shrink back into the shadows of the throne room. Nobody wanted to draw his attention when he was in a mood like that. How unhealthy this could be proved the sight of his companion. Bellatrix Lestrange was neither nice nor beloved but every Death Eater feared and respected her. While a few of them felt glee watching her stumbled through the chamber, fruitlessly pretending to be strong, nobody dared to show it openly. She stumbled and would have fallen without Rastaban jumping to her aid. Her brother-in-law certainly was the nicer of the two brothers and unlike her own husband he actually liked her. It was another proof of her pitiful condition that she didn't push him away and hex him as she would have done on any other day.

_Cissy, I need my Cissy_, Bella thought, feeling a wave of anger rolling through her body as she remembered her baby sister's betrayal. Aside from her own failure at the Ministry it had been her sister's betrayal of their Lord's cause that had prompted him to choose her as his companion for today's excursion. Now he didn't even look up as Rastaban led his sister-in-law away and gently pushed her onto a seat, feeling that she wouldn't be able to keep standing for far longer.

Every pair of eyes was closely watching Voldemort's every move. How angry was he, how dangerous? His next words gave an answer to that question, the low voice, barely a whisper, far more than the words. More than one member of the Inner Circle trembled. Hot rage they knew, Crucios they could handle. But this cold anger was life-threatening.

"I want to know where Sirius Black is hiding these days with his old home destroyed. I want to know where he left the belongings of his late brother Regulus the traitor." Voldemort played with a small precious looking locket, eying it thoughtfully. "I want to have his house-elf Kreacher at my feet – alive." He looked around. Every Death Eater who felt his eyes on him shrank back, praying '_not me, not me'_. "Antonin, you're in charge. Take whomever you need. I want answers and I want them fast."

Antonin paled but bowed, accepting the task. What else could he do?

"Bella, dear."

Bella staggered away from her seat, still wobbly and her feet and obvious in pain. _What happened to her?_ Rastaban wondered. _She behaves as if poisoned_. "Milord," Bella bowed, nearly toppling in the process. Nott senior, who like Antonin belonged to the small number of Death Eaters that had escaped imprisonment at the Ministry and was now hoping to use Lucius' absence to improve his own standing, dared to snicker at the sight of the usually so haughty Bella being in pain.

"Incarcerous! Incendio!"

Seconds later, screams of pain filled the air. Unable to move, flames licking at his sides, Nott started to turn into something akin to a roasted pigling. With a mix of horror and glee his comrades watched him, happy that it hit him and not them. Voldemort allowed him to burn for a while, waited until his head and body hair was gone together with his clothes. Only then did he stop the fire and allow his men to drag the nearly dead man away. He would survive, but be in pain for weeks and certainly never forget the day.

"Is anybody else in a silly mood?" Voldemort sneered. Nobody dared to answer – certainly no surprise there.

"Bella, Rastaban, Rodolphus, you stay. Everybody else – out!" Like charmed away the other Death Eaters left the chamber, each of them eager to be the first to leave.

"Bella, I want you to visit your vault the first thing tomorrow morning. Bring me the cup and don't return without it." He only allowed her the break because she wouldn't be able to stay conscious for far longer, not with the poison from the locket's defences burning in her stomach.

"Don't fail me, Bella."

.

Far away someone woke from his restless slumber. He needed quite a while to fully wake up.

"Cullen. Sirius. They need to know – now."

.

_**A/N**_

_I'm not certain about Penelope's blood status, but with her being one of the victims of the Basilisk, I decided to make her a Muggleborn. _

_If you already read my "Congregation" story, you'll recognize a few of the changes at Hogwarts, especially the part about Muggleborn and Goblins/History. Barnabas Bagshot was a guest there, too._

_About Narcissa and Draco: they're willing and able to change, but they won't do the 180 degree flip. _


	9. Chapter 9 The Chalice from the Palace

_**A/N**_

_Here now, with a bit of delay because of the Easter family days, is chapter 9 of the Cullen story._

**.**

**The Chalice from the Palace**

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„_The pellet with the poison's in the vessel with the pestle; the chalice from the palace has the brew that is true." (The Court Jester)_

_._

_**Tonks City House**_

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"Step through. I'll call Sirius."

Cullen instantly followed Andromeda's advice and only seconds later the flames turned green, allowing Cullen and Harry to cross the distance from Scotland to London with a single step. It was a kind of magic Cullen would love to have back at home. Reaching Denerim, the capital of Ferelden, in no time; better: to be able to see his family in Honnleagh every weekend instead of only once every other year, while still doing his duty at the circle tower – he would love it. Senior Enchanter Fin once told him about earlier times, when the Magisters of Tevinter actually used something similar, magical gate-sized mirrors that allowed them to cross long distances.

_Perhaps there still are some of those mirrors around_; the thought suddenly crossed his mind. _Perhaps it would be possible to reach one of them through some means. Perhaps I could use that veil at the Ministry to go back – if I ever wish to_. He wasn't certain about that wish anymore. There was this little blond reason not to. Cullen smiled.

"What happened? Harry, are you alright?" Sirius concerned voice tore Cullen away from his deep thoughts.

"I'm okay, Padfoot." Harry tried to smile but failed horribly. He looked pale and slightly ill.

"Then…"

"I had a dream again, Padfoot."

Sirius and Andromeda exchanged a concerned look and sat down on the couch. "What kind of dream?"

"About… about him," Harry sighed.

Sirius frowned. "I thought you learned Occlumency to block them out?"

"I did," Harry agreed. "Or at least I tried to, I'm not there yet. Sometimes I still 'see' him, especially if something happens that… something that causes his emotions to go in overdrive."

"And something like this happened tonight?"

Harry nodded and Cullen interjected: "Harry told me about his dream and I think we have to act on it – tonight, with no further delay. Andromeda? I expect another guest. Perhaps we should wait for her to arrive. She needs to hear this too."

_She?_ Andromeda wondered.

"Could you please prepare some tea and a hot chocolate for Harry? We'll need it."

.

"I hope you have a really, really good reason to wake me up in the middle of the night, Cullen," Amelia Bones growled seconds after her arrival. She was wearing her robes and shoes, with her long nightgown visible under the hemline. Her hair was only moderately brushed and her face still showed signs of sleep and abrupt awakening.

"Amelia, as beautiful and adorable as ever," Sirius smirked.

"Shut up, Black," Amelia growled. She calmed down a bit as she noticed the slightly shaken boy at Cullen's side.

"Sit down, Amelia," Cullen ordered bluntly. "You'll understand in a moment. I think we'll need your help before the night is over."

.

"And you believe this dream to be true?" Amelia asked nobody in particular after Harry finished his story.

"It felt like the other times I had those dreams about him." Harry mumbled unhappily. He really hated this connection. It felt so unclean.

"Apparently the connection grew stronger since we started to destroy the Horcruxes," Cullen explained. "Even with me training him, Harry isn't able to block him out completely anymore. It's the reason I want to permanently cut the connection this month."

Harry startled and stared at him wide-eyed. "You… you can do that?"

Cullen nodded. "We have to speak about it later, but yes, I found a way. Especially, I found a few friends willing to help me with a cleansing ritual to get rid of that scar of yours. Sorry, Harry, but your days of being 'Scarhead' are numbered," he ended without any real regret.

"I think I can handle that," Harry grinned. Instantly, he felt lighter and like he'd grown a foot or two.

"But back to the matter at hand," Cullen changed the topic. "Sirius, you once told me about your idea to disown dear Bella. I think it's time to do just that tonight."

.

"He's sleeping," Andromeda whispered two hours later. Harry was resting on the couch, moving slightly in his sleep and with a blanket covering him.

Cullen and Sirius had just returned from the Ministry where Amelia had personally hastened along the recording of Sirius' decision. Since 03:38 AM, Bellatrix LeStrange née Black didn't belong to the House of Black anymore. The marriage contract between the Houses of Black and LeStrange was dissolved '_out of moral considerations and because of the affiliation to a criminal organisation_'. Her dowry vault was shut down, and her admission to any Black property revoked.

"You should try to sleep as well," Andromeda suggested. "I'll wake you up at seven."

"Alright, but don't forget to wake me up," Sirius grinned, speaking with a low voice. "We don't want to miss the show."

"Amelia and a few of her friends will be waiting for your dear-sister," Cullen explained.

Andromeda sighed. "I hope she'll surrender. I know," she continued seeing Sirius doubtful look "she won't, but I still hope. She's still my sister, nothing will ever change that."

.

_**Not far from Gringotts – 07:30 AM**_

.

"It's too dangerous to use the main entrance, Lady Black," the old goblin hastened to object. Copperbuck had served Bella's mother and felt something akin to adoration towards Bella since she entered the bank decades ago – or at least something as near to adoration as a goblin could actually feel towards a witch. He never accepted her wedding to Rodolphus LeStrange, thinking that she deserved better. Despite her disgust for the little creatures, Bella was amused enough by the antics of the odd goblin to allow him this impertinence – this and his unabashed, unwavering loyalty over all those years. "There are Aurors in hiding around the bank, but naturally not on the grounds of Gringotts itself. The black, bald one is leading them."

"Shacklebolt," Bella sneered. She hated the man with a passion as he had been one of the team coming to Potter's rescue at the Ministry.

"We'll open our doors at eight. Thirty minutes later I'll open the side entrance for you when the first wave of customers will be occupying everybody in the hall."

"I trust you for this, Copperbuck," Bella glared. "Don't disappoint me."

"I never will, Lady Black," Copperbuck confirmed with a bow. "I never will."

.

_**Not far from Gringotts – 07:55 AM**_

.

"Everybody is in position."

Kingsley curtly nodded towards Senior Auror Brinks. This was important. He had chosen his team carefully, five handpicked Aurors from the most experienced duellists of the department. They would go against the Lestranges two on one each. Brinks and another one, both especially accomplished at fighting defensively, had the duty to delay Bella, the most dangerous among the targets, until the other two pairs had knocked out the LeStrange brothers. They had to use the surprise effect well and win fast else their prey would use every opportunity to get away. A few more Aurors were standing guard near Gringotts but wouldn't be part of the attacking force.

_I won't let you down, Amelia_, Kinsley silently promised, not suspecting that an old goblin had already shattered his well-laid trap into pieces.

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_**Gringotts main entrance – 08:02 AM**_

.

"Shouldn't we…" Sirius pointed towards the teller he had intended to ask, but Cullen already dragged Harry towards one of the guards. For Sirius most goblins looked the same, but Cullen recognized him as having belonged to the spider hunter team.

"May the blood of your enemies flow freely, Stonespear," Cullen greeted him, emphasizing his words with a heavy blow of his mail fist against the goblins armoured chest.

"And may your enemies be worthy of your sword, Shield-Bearer," the goblin guard responded while his comrade watched the scene with fletched teeth – a sign of amusement as far as Cullen knew.

The Templar clasped Harry's shoulder with his left hand, leaving the right one free to draw his sword, something not gone unnoticed by the Goblins: "my young friend here and his godfather need to speak to Lady Ironsides – now."

"And you expect me to act as an errand boy?" The guard snarled.

"I expect you to trust that this is important for Gringotts as well as for us."

Cullen and goblin locked eyes for some long moments until the goblin relented. He nodded slowly. "I'll go fetch her. I hope for you that Lady Ironsides shares your opinion. It won't be healthy for you otherwise."

Harry waited for the guard to depart before he addressed Cullen: "Lady Ironsides, really?" The old and slightly tottery looking goblin lady had been more than a tad impressive and creepy.

"I think she's the best choice if we hope to act fast. With Amelia handling the official side we could try to use the usual channels, but that would cost us a few hours at least." He had spent enough time with goblins to respect and fear their 'official ways' to handle matters.

.

_**Gringotts – Lower Levels – 08:24 AM**_

.

"Here we are," Lady Ironsides announced as they reached the heavy door.

Harry was still thinking about the dragon they had passed some time ago. It was guarding Gringotts' lower levels where the most important and ancient vaults were located. It was a frightening, but also very sad, sight. The goblins had apparently stationed him down here as a very young dragon. He seemed to be nearly blind now and slightly crippled. Harry wasn't even certain he was still able to fly. He was some kind of a movable flame-thrower, a weapon and not a feeling creature anymore. Hermione wouldn't be happy to see this. Hopefully she never would. It was certainly proof that goblins weren't some kind of small wizards but a race on its own with completely different morals. Compassion towards dragons wasn't part of their vocabulary.

"Here is the Ministry paper," Sirius offered the papers he got from Amelia Bones and Lady Ironsides made a show of examining them closely, while Cullen and Stonespear were watching her, the former with anticipation, the latter bored if trying not to show it too openly. It was never good to be caught yawning by your superior. Stonespear's comrade Broadaxe was close by, keeping an eye on the passages around.

"Everything is alright," Lady Ironsides announced and started to dismantle a number of special goblin wards Bella had bought for her vault. Sirius would have to pay if he wanted to put them up again. New owner, new wards and new expenses – that was the goblin way.

Sirius bound the new key to his blood and opened the vault – it was 08:28 AM.

.

_**Gringotts – side entrance – 08:29 AM**_

.

"Wha…"

The young Auror had no chance as the side door opened and a goblin left the bank. Without hesitation, old Copperbuck used his sharp gladius, a goblin-crafted short sword in the form of the ones Roman soldiers used two thousand years ago, to stab him in the stomach. Endless pained filled the young man and his legs lost any power to support his weight. He sank on his knees, trying fruitlessly to keep his entrails in his body. Copperbuck drew his blade back and slit his throat with a swift motion, stepping back to allow the Auror to hit the pavement with his face.

"Good work," Bella announced, making Copperbuck happy. His maniac grin broadened as she turned the Auror into a block of wood and ordered Rastaban to pick it up, while she cleaned Copperbuck's clothes with a swish of her wand. "Let's go."

"There is a small complication, Lady Black." Copperbuck said while he led her towards the wagon.

"What kind of complication?" Bella snarled.

"Your cousin arrived with that Potter-boy. I saw them leave the hall with one of the guards. I don't know where they went."

"Do you think…," Rodolphus started to ask, looking uneasy.

"We'll see very soon," Bella suppressed any discussion. "Lead the way, Copperbuck. Wands on the ready," she ordered her men.

.

_**Black vault – formerly Bella's – 08:34 AM**_

.

"Such an innocent looking cup," Sirius commented as Cullen put the Cup of Helga Hufflepuff into the rune-container.

"It's often the innocent little things that do the most damage," Cullen remarked softly as he closed the lid.

"Since Hermione told me about Helga Hufflepuff's cup," Harry interjected with a thoughtful voice "I wondered if it somehow became part of the Holy Grail story."

"Holy Grail?" Cullen asked. For a moment Harry wondered about Sirius' equally confused look before he remembered that a wizard wouldn't know anything about the cup of a very special carpenter.

"I'll explain later," Harry sighed. _Perhaps I'll get Hermione to explain it_.

"I need to bring the cup to the Ministry. Croaker should already be waiting for me. Amelia wanted to assure his presence on my arrival," Cullen explained.

"Stonespear, accompany Master Cullen to the entrance near the Ministry," Lady Ironsides ordered, before she addressed Sirius. "Would you like me to dismantle the curses protecting the vault's content? Some of them are very vicious." Ironsides wasn't a happy goblin right now. The cup had already been hidden under some very brutal goblin wards and she saw a few more in here, wards that weren't allowed in any customer vault. _I have to speak with Copperbuck about this. This really goes too far_. She would have to dismantle them according to Gringotts' policy. If the new owner was willing to pay for it, she was willing to accept.

"I would like this. I want to fetch a few things from my own vault. After that I would like to have a first look around this one."

"Do that. Broadaxe, accompany him," she commanded the second guard. "Master Potter, please accompany your godfather. I don't want you to get hurt while I'm at work." Ironsides nodded towards Sirius as he departed with Broadaxe and Harry. "See you in a few." She could be trusted not to steal anything. It didn't mean she couldn't have a look around herself.

She had some work to do. And after that some goblin to turn into dragon dung.

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_**Gringotts – Lower Levels – 08:42 AM**_

.

Some magical observer, able to have a look at the different corridors connecting the vaults, would have laughed about the different groups currently present. While Lady Ironsides started to work in Bella's vault and Stonespear led Cullen through some rarely used corridors towards the exit, two other groups were approaching each other, both unaware of the other's presence. While Sirius and Harry followed Broadaxe towards the Black family vault, deep in thoughts and happy about the success in getting the cup, Bella and her entourage had the benefit of at least knowing about Sirius' presence. It was a small but important benefit.

Sirius only looked up as Harry shoved him into the wall. His seeker awareness and reflexes had saved his godfather. Harry had no intent to lose Sirius after his little stunt at the Ministry. The green light hit the wall far behind them, proof that Bella had no intention to play around today. Because of the direction Sirius had been going, she assumed he had already finished his business down here. Perhaps he even had the cup in his possession right now. She couldn't allow him to escape.

"Put down your wands…" Broadaxe started, expecting the witch to follow his command. Disobeying a goblin guard was one of the stupidest things to do, only prompting Gringotts to bar you from using their services ever again. It was however his own race that betrayed him on this day. Before he had a chance to react, Copperbuck stabbed him in the chest. His eyes showing the betrayal he felt, Broadaxe slumped against the wall. Unable to defend himself, he helplessly watched Copperbuck raise his sword again to finish him off. "Traitor…"

"Expelliarmus! Stupefy! Incarcerous!"

Incredibly fast the three spells Harry fired off hit the Goblin, disarmed him, smashed him against the other wall and bound him with thick magical ropes. Without waiting to watch his success, Harry rolled aside, two cutting curses blasting little holes into the floor while Sirius protected him against Bella's widespread Reducto.

_We have no chance against all three_, Harry realized within seconds. Sirius was barely able to hold off Bella and there were still the LeStrange brothers – mad like Bella but no less dangerous.

"Lumos Maximus!"

The bright light briefly blinded everybody. Harry heard the LeStranges utter Protego spells, allowing him to continue with something he didn't need his eyesight to execute.

"Expecto Patronum!" Perhaps it was luck that Harry wasn't able to see his Patronus right now. He would have been stunned by its appearance. "Go to Lady Ironsides," he mumbled. "We're under attack." Obediently the Patronus run off. Hopefully he would be fast enough.

.

The battle went downhill from there. Harry had been right about the chances to win this fight. Only his reflexes had allowed him to survive so far. While Bella battled Sirius, who had been hurt a few times and looked far more serious than ever before, Rodolphus and Rastaban concentrated on Harry. Luckily they didn't want to simply kill but capture him, forcing Sirius to surrender. Perhaps they even assumed Harry would make a good present for their lord.

"Gund U Bot!"

Harry nearly fainted from relief as he heard the rumbling goblin voice. Bella and the LeStranges however squeaked and jumped aside as the ground beneath their feet turned from solid stone to some oily morass. Rastaban was quick enough to dodge the area attack and Bella only sunk once into the morass up to her knee before evading it too, while protecting her flank from Sirius spell fire with a new shield. Rodolphus however was in the middle of it and with every single move he sank deeper.

"Hoshat op Bot!"

Rastaban just started to use his magic to assist his brother in escaping the morass when a cube feet of the greasy matter hit his face, successfully silencing him.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Rodolphus briefly stopped his inefficient attempts at breaking free and sent a killing curse towards the old goblin, only to see her banished into the next wall by Harry's spell. _Better bruised than dead_, he mused. Instantly starting to snow him under mountains of spells, Harry tried to buy Ironsides a few precious seconds to recover from the impact. On the other side of the corridor, Bella only stepped up in her fury. More and more curses of the darkest kind flew towards her blood-traitorous cousin.

"Vorb op Viz!"

Ironsides hurled something akin to a clay pot towards Bella. She reacted fast enough to blast it apart with a small Reducto, but it wasn't enough to stop its content. Dozens of finger-length insects escaped their prison, irritated and eager to get some blood from the black-haired witch. Like mad she tried to swat them while dodging the spells Sirius and Harry sent her way.

"Avada…"

Rodolphus was stupid enough to try it again. This time however he wasn't fast enough.

"Balt Najor!"

"…Kedavra!" The green light left Rodolphus' wand only to hit some kind of humanoid creature created from the morass, blasting it asunder. Many more of those creatures appeared over the next moments, none of them bigger than a small goblin, but together more than enough to overpower the wizard who was still helpless and hip-high in the morass. While two of them clung to his wand-arm, incapacitating him completely in the process, more than a dozen others started to drag him down, pull him into the morass below. Animal fear broke through his usual haughtiness and he actually started to scream for help, and whine for mercy. But Ironsides knew nothing of that.

However, his screams distracted his dear wife long enough to allow Sirius and Harry to hit her simultaneously. Sirius' cutting curse went straight through her wand and hand, cutting off two fingers and half of her hand. Harry's bonebreaker spell however hit her head and smashed her against the wall. She wasn't dead right away but was certainly out of the fight for a long time.

"Tharb Pushatig Dyr!"

Happy with their success but feeling uneasy because of the sight of those mud men suffocating Rodolphus LeStrange, Sirius and Harry stared in wonder as all kind of small creatures jumped from the morass. Frogs, snakes and other creatures, none of them bigger than a housecat, none of them looking very frightening. Rastaban apparently thought the same but still decided to flee. With Bella knocked out and his brother presumably dead, he had no chance to win anymore. The animals however decided otherwise. While the snakes slithered after the Death Eater, a few of the frogs started to spit in his direction. Globs of mud hit him, instantly starting to dissolve his robes like pure acid.

"Stay," Ironsides ordered Sirius and Harry as they jumped to follow the man. "They'll take care of him. It," she hesitated for a moment "it won't be a nice sight."

Harry shuddered slightly as he imagined what could make someone like Ironsides utter such a statement.

Rastaban was soon out of side, dodging around the next corner. The sight of two dozens of small animals hunting him was a bit silly – the screaming following very soon however wasn't. The light of spells became visible, the sounds telling Harry that Rastaban tried to eradicate the menace with Reducto spells. The screaming however continued.

Ironsides, apparently certain of the success of their creatures, pulled a very dead and mud-covered Rodolphus LeStrange from the morass and started to treat Broadaxe. The seriously injured goblin explained what had happened, pointing towards the still bound Copperbuck and the slightly pale Harry. Ironsides nodded and patted his shoulder. As the screaming stopped, and her creatures returned before vanished into the morass, Ironsides walked to Copperbuck's side and grabbed his sword.

"You're unworthy to be one of us, Copperbuck. You'll pay for your betrayal." She lashed out, her fist connecting solidly with Copperbuck's chin and knocking him out, showing that she wasn't nearly as tottery as she appeared to be. Looking far happier now she turned towards Harry and tossed the gladius in his direction. "You earned this one, Scion Potter. Use it well."

.

_**Hogwarts – Gryffindor Tower – 5**__**th**__** of October**_

.

_Who would have thought that Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson being guest at the Gryffindor common room would cause acceptance and not an uproar?_ Harry mused while he waited for Hermione to arrive.

The Slytherin duo had been invited by none else than Neville and Ginny. Since Draco defended Luna, he had been able to get along better with some of the Gryffindors. Yes, Harry had noticed that Draco still mostly kept to the purebloods but at least he was polite to the others. Some afternoon Pansy started to tag along and to everyone's surprise she got along fabulously with Ginny, Lavender and Parvati. More than once Pansy had been watching Ginny's behaviour around Draco with notable interest and it was left to be seen how she reacted to the blushing Gryffindor. Even cuter was the interaction between Pansy and Neville. The shy boy was somehow able to cause the haughty and outspoken girl to be far softer and warmer around him. Hermione hadn't been happy about it, with Pansy being her dearest enemy for so long. However, she obeyed Harry's wishes so far to give her a chance. He promised her that she could hex Pansy into next week should she hurt Neville. The thought made her smile.

"Any news about your aunt?" Ginny asked softly. She certainly didn't like the crazy bitch, knew that Neville hated her with a passion, but it was still Draco's family and she wasn't certain how he felt about her.

"Still unconscious," Draco shrugged. "Mother got a lawyer for her, otherwise we aren't really interested in her fate anymore. She's too far gone, too mad and dangerous even to her own family." Narcissa had, after leaving Malfoy Manor, more or less cut all family ties to her older sister. She knew that Bella would never accept her 'betrayal'. Far more she was interested in strengthening the bond towards Andromeda and her family, something she was now allowed to do. They weren't as close as they once were and Draco still felt somewhat queasy around Tonks and her Muggleborn father, but it was a start. Polite he could do.

For a while they continued their conversation, with Harry half-hearted listening, his own mind on Ginny's recuperation. Luna hadn't been willing to speak about the ritual; she only declared that it had been 'interesting and diverting'. Cullen had been exhausted and Argus Filch hadn't been seen for a few days afterwards. However, it really seemed to have helped her. She looked happier now, lighter-hearted and no more prone to mood swings. It gave him hope for his own ritual, terminated for the next weekend. In a way it was the reason for what they had planned for today. Not that they really needed a reason to take their girls out.

"I'm ready, Harry."

.

"You're awfully silent, Harry," Hermione smirked a wee bit later on their way to Professor McGonagall's office.

"I'm still stunned by your beautiful appearance," Harry tried to compliment her. "Not that you aren't always beautiful, only today…" he hastened to add.

She stopped him, putting her hand on his arm. "I understand, Harry. Thank you."

Hermione actually looked incredible. It seemed to be one of the last nice late summer days and she had chosen a skirt way shorter than usual, showing of her tanned legs, sandals with pink-painted toenails, a mint green blouse and a compatible bolero jacket. A set of silver jewellery with malachite completed the ensemble.

"I didn't know green looked so nice on you," he grinned.

"I thought with our new inter house unity, it would be okay to wear it at last." It wasn't really Slytherin green and silver but certainly not the typical Gryffindor colours.

"It certainly compliments your eyes."

"Flattery gets you everywhere, Potter," Hermione blushed slightly. "Getting lessons from Sirius, I see."

Harry shrugged. "He has a reputation to uphold, being my godfather and all." He bit his lower lip before he dared to ask: "really everywhere?"

"We have to wait and see, have we not, Mister Potter?"

_This day got better with every minute._

.

_**Office of Minerva McGonagall**_

"You don't intend to walk around like this?" Minerva wondered, gesturing towards the Luna's robe and Cullen's steward uniform.

"Luna wanted to change clothes at my parents' house and my father offered to take a look at his suits for Cullen," Hermione explained. The double-date would take place in the Muggle world near her parents' home and Minerva had offered to use her floo. Since Andromeda took over as the Grangers' magical guardian, their house had been connected to the floo system. It was a very welcome change, allowing her parents to often visit the Tonks, Weasleys and – when they felt especially adventurous – Xeno Lovegood.

"Then there is nothing left except wishing you well. Don't be back too late. And I want pictures."

"You'll get some," Harry promised, feeling for the magical camera Colin had gladly lent him in exchange for the promise of a few copies of the pictures taken.

.

_**Granger residence**_

"What a sight," Harry grinned as Ben Granger returned with Cullen in tow, now wearing dark brown trousers and a beige jacket, both slightly adjusted by Hermione to fit his broad shoulders and muscular thighs. With her having turned seventeen two weeks ago, Hermione was the only one allowed use magic around here.

"It still needs getting used to," Cullen admitted. "Even on the days I visited my family, I wore something more… official. But I like…" He stopped open-mouthed at the sight of Luna Lovegood hovering down the stairs.

"Close your mouth, you'll catch flies," Hermione grinned, happy about Cullen's reaction. Luna looked ethereal in her silver sandals and flowing summer dress. Hermione actually had to cast a spell on it, as the flowers on the dress were usually surrounded by little bees. It would be a tad too eye-catching otherwise. The dress clung to Luna's body like a glove. She didn't have curves like Hermione but she certainly wasn't a little girl anymore. Her hair had been groomed by Hermione's mother into a complicated pinned-up hairstyle with two ringlets framing her face, emphasizing her bare neck.

Harry nudged Cullen. "Wasn't there something… ?"

Cullen nodded, barely able to concentrate. "May I… ?" He opened a flat jewellery box, presenting Luna a silver chain with a pendant similar to the bracelet she wore. It pictured a middle-aged woman with a basket on one side and a date on the other. "It's Mother Rosalia. It's meant as a way to protect you. The date is the day we first met."

Luna smiled her most dazzling smile and turned around, allowing Cullen to put it around her neck. His fingers trembled a bit and Harry had to suppress a broad grin as he noticed how long Cullen's eyes lingered on Luna's neck. _He wants to kiss it_, he realized. _I wonder how long it will take until he actually does it – or if Luna will be faster_. It was something he actually expected to happen. Cullen was too old-school to press the matter, something that never had stopped Luna in the past.

"Let's go. Cinema is waiting."

.

"What's that?" Cullen asked, grabbing a handful of the suspicious… how did Harry call it?

"That's popcorn," Hermione responded, grabbing some for herself and pushing them into her mouth, munching happily. "You eat them. They belong to a cinema experience."

"And coke too," Harry added, pushing a two pint plastic cup into Cullen's hand.

There were dozens if not hundreds of people around. There was pushing and shoving all around and Cullen was hard pressed to protect Luna from the worst of it. However, she seemed to enjoy it so far, taking in all the foreign impressions with wide eyes and children-like wonder.

"We should get in before the best seats are taken," Hermione shooed them in.

"And you're sure we'll like this… this film?" Cullen had his doubts.

"Let yourself be surprised," Harry grinned. He had chosen the film together with Hermione and was quite certain that Cullen and Luna would love it. Hopefully he was right.

As expected the seats in the cinema were already mostly taken but in the end they found two double seats in the back third. Hermione hid her smile as Cullen and Luna had some difficulties with the folding seats but after a while everybody was more or less comfortably seated and the film could start.

_I think I'll have to explain cinema commercials afterwards,_ Hermione realized. Now it was too late for this. From time to time she glanced towards Luna and Cullen. They watched some loud trailers of the next action films and a single girl-flick, both a bit overwhelmed by all the pictures and sounds. Somewhere in the meantime Luna had used the excuse of feeling anxious to put Cullen's arm around her shoulders. She didn't look eager to end the embrace, even as the comedy started.

_**Alf – the film**_

_Let the circus begin._

.

"Do you think they're related to Nepalese Yeti-apes?" Cullen wondered.

Hermione had led them to the nearest Kentucky Fried Chicken afterwards, with her feeling a tad uneasy about the more renowned McDonalds after a story her aunt had told her, about the five years McDonalds had been forbidden over in France because of hygienic problems. Now she wondered about the wisdom of that decision as she nearly swallowed a chicken bone because of Cullen's question. With their meals long gone cold, the couple was vividly speaking about the film's content. With all their seriousness it could well have been a documentary and not a comedy.

_Should I explain the difference_, she wondered. _Nah, not yet_.

"They look like those sketching Dad published," Luna agreed. "But Yeti-apes have better table manners."

"There is that," Cullen admitted. "And I can't remember anything about them eating cats."

"It's still good he got away," Luna sighed happily, snuggling closer to Cullen. The young man shortly stiffened but relaxed again after a glance towards Harry and Hermione, after noticing their supportive nods.

"I think he only allowed them to catch him. He's far too clever to get caught otherwise."

Luna nodded eagerly. "Perhaps he wanted to see if they are a danger to his people. Do you think he's really an alien?"

Cullen shrugged. "Certainly not as they thought," he responded, hinting at the fact that Alf had been a prisoner of the 'Alien Task Force'. "But perhaps he's from another world like I do."

"Do you think he knows a way back?" Luna asked, her eyes telling Harry that she didn't like the idea but had to ask.

Cullen tensed again, but shook his head. "I don't think so. And if: then certainly only a way back to his world, not to others." _He doesn't like the idea himself_, Harry realized. _At least they don't want to meet him_.

Luna appeared far happier after this statement and started to munch her chicken wings, nibbling them very carefully and cleanly.

"I think he's like you, Luna," Cullen stated after a while. "You know: exploring, getting to know other races."

"You could be right about that. Perhaps his people sent him here and all this spaceship crash nonsense is only a cover story."

Hermione bit her lip; Luna was too cute speaking about her weird ideas. The fact that Cullen gravely nodded to them only caused Hermione to bite stronger.

"You know, I really would like to do that after school: going places, meeting people, looking for rare plants and animals, and learning about foreign customs and all," Luna continued after a while. A tad anxious she awaited his reaction.

Cullen watched her closely before he shrugged. "Then I fear there is only one thing I could do about that."

"And that would be?" Luna gulped. Her eyes were somewhat teary.

"Accompany you, what else?" Cullen stated like there was never a question about it. "If you want me to, I mean."

The searing kiss was answer enough. _As expected, Luna was faster_, Harry grinned. _It's always the quiet ones – or the eccentric_.

.

_**Hogwarts – Office of Steward Cullen – 6**__**th**___

.

"Good afternoon, Professor Snape," Cullen greeted the dark-haired man as he entered his office. Without further word he offered him a seat and started to pour him some tea, adding some whiskey for good manner. The teacher looked like he could use some.

"Thank you, Steward Cullen," Severus nodded and sat down. With a solemn face he started to sip his tea and kept silent for a while. Cullen simply waited for his guest to begin. It's something about Albus, he assumed. Snape has always this slightly betrayed look when Albus does something stupid.

"Albus," he really started, breaking his silence. "He did something stupid this summer. Now he expects me to fix it." He looked up. "Do you know what a Horcrux is?"

Cullen nodded. "Someone told me about the magical theory behind it." That someone had been Croaker, naturally.

"The Dark Lord created some of them. Potter destroyed one in his second year." Snape waited for some sign of surprise on Cullen's face and found none. "Albus found a second one this summer."

"Does this have to do with his hand?" Cullen made a shot in the dark.

"You can see it?" Severus asked flabbergasted.

"More like feel it," Cullen explained. "It's a dark, unnatural feeling around his aura, similar to your dark mark but not the same."

Instinctively he grabbed at his forearm. Looking thoughtful for a moment, he asked. "I heard about your… your cleansing rituals…"

Cullen sighed. "I can't help you with this, Professor. I can try to cut your connection to him, but I can't take the mark away. You accepted it willingly, you acted freely when you served him, in the beginning at least. I'm sorry, but your soul is tainted now."

"So there is no hope?"

"There always is," Cullen stated softly. "However, it is something you have to do for yourself. You killed in his service. You can't redeem this easily. Not that I assume your life since his first disappearance was an easy one."

Severus sighed and nodded. "Back to the matter at hand. We have two Horcruxes destroyed right now…"

"Five," Cullen interrupted him.

Snape started: "five?"

Cullen nodded, smiling sadly about Voldemort's madness. "We found another three this summer and destroyed them with the help of some Unspeakable."

"Croaker?" Severus knew about Minerva's friend.

"Croaker, yes."

"That's good to know," Severus felt better now. Albus had told him… "Albus assumed that he created six Horcruxes all in all."

"Croaker assumed the same. With the poor remains of his own that would make it seven, apparently a strong magical number. So far we don't know about the nature of the last one." They had some assumptions, but they didn't know for certain.

"Did you meet any difficulties when destroying them?"

"They tried to avoid the destruction by showing some… pictures. You know, kind of nightmares or pictures of our worst fears and doubts, something like that. But nothing serious or threatening happened. I assume this was different in Albus' case?"

"Yes, regretfully. There was a dark curse on the ring. Albus was careless and it…"

"It cursed his hand, I understand. He never told me so far. It's like he doesn't want me to heal him. Not that I'm certain I even could. The curse seemed to be ingrained deeply into his aura. I assume he didn't get cursed by simply handling the ring but he actually and freely donned it. Am I right?"

"Yes," Severus sighed. "As I said: he was careless."

"And now he's dying," Cullen deadpanned, earning him another nod. "How long?"

"A few months," Severus responded. "Around next Whitsun at most, I expect."

"But this isn't what is actually troubling you right now."

"No, at least not this alone." Severus filled his cup with whiskey and a trace of tea, gulping it down before he continued: "he fears for the fate of Hogwarts. He's still not completely trusting you… your abilities I mean. I think it's difficult for an old and powerful wizard like him to trust a… whatever you are technically. Whatever, he has his own contingency plans. He wants to ascertain my position as the next headmaster and the Dark Lord's trust."

Cullen narrowed his eyes. "He wants you to kill him, under witnesses and all."

"Yes, that's the plan. He assumes that I even could protect Draco by doing this. Doing his job and all."

"And what do you think about it?"

Severus shrugged and answered in false nonchalance. "I'm not… happy."

"When does he wants this to happen?"

"Around Easter, right before the spring break. It would allow me to use the break for organizing my takeover."

Cullen thought about it for a while. Severus expected a solution, preferably an outlet that would allow him to decline Albus' order. But what would Albus do, should Severus not follow his lead? With this plan he would have some time at least, time to end it his way.

"Accept it," he declared in the end. "Deny any oath but accept the plan in itself."

"But why?" Severus had obviously hoped for something different.

"With you accepting it, Albus will be content and stay out of our hairs."

"While we look for another solution," Severus concluded.

"Yes," Cullen nodded. "I want to finish this before the year ends," he explained. "But with the problems of Harry's scar and the last Horcrux on my hands, I can't use any further distractions. Let's wait until Christmas. If we haven't succeeded then, I'll speak with Albus about his plan and his cursed hand."

"I hope you'll find a way to end this," Snape said with an unusual emotional voice. "I really don't want to kill him. At the moment I don't like him very much but he has been my mentor for a long time, sometimes a friend even. I don't want him to end like this. And I think he deserves to see the end of this, a positive end. Albus is not a bad man all in all."

"I know," Cullen agreed. "I know."

.

_**Voldemort's Lair – 9**__**th**__** of October**_

.

"No, your sister stays with me," the Dark Lord stopped Nott's attempt to leave together with his younger sister Ophelia. Nott paled visibly, while Ophelia's eyes darted back and forth like a frightened hare.

The inner circle had met with their lord to discuss future plans. While he didn't intend to divulge his secrets at length, he needed them to do some preparations for Halloween.

Potter destroyed his diary years ago.

Locket and ring weren't in their places anymore.

With Bella a prisoner and the LeStrange brothers dead, it could be assumed that the Cup was gone too.

This left only the Diadem and Nagini, not enough to feel secure. No, he had to create another Horcrux. He already had the right object, Hagrid's wand he had nicked decades ago. Now he only needed an appropriate victim. It would be Nott's job to get her.

"But why, Milord?" Nott dared to ask, flinching as he realized the stupidity of the question.

"She'll be your… incentive," Voldemort actually smiled, sending shivers down Ophelia's spine. "Should you fail, she will take _her_ place. You'll better be successful."

"I will," Nott hastened to affirm. Turning towards his sister he repeated: "I will succeed."

.

A deep bell sounded through the house, instantly alarming the couple inhabiting the house. For a moment they stared at each other, pale and uncertain. Another deep bell crashed any hopes of a false alarm.

"Hurry," Ben Granger jumped up and hurried towards the fireplace. He grabbed a handful of Floo powder and tossed it into the fire: "Tonks Manor." To his horror the colour didn't change, didn't turn into the green that promised escape. He tried another time: "Tonks Manor." Still nothing happened. The path was blocked. What could they do now?

.

At the same time a similar bell sounded far away. It alarmed another couple. Again a hand used floo powder to activate a floo. Again nothing happened. However, this couple had other ways to act, other ways to reach their destination. Without hesitation they drew their wands and apparated, reaching their destination within seconds, a destination not far away from House Granger.

Hopefully they would be fast enough.

.

With no small amount of consternation, Theo Nott senior watched his minions as they attacked the house. Two of them had put notice-me-not wards around, allowing them to use spells freely. He was sitting under a tree with a couple of others, hidden under Disillusionment Charms, waiting for their target. The four junior Death Eaters approaching the house were nothing than a distraction – a very poor distraction as he noticed now.

_They're only a couple of worthless Muggles_, Nott cursed. He glared at one of his men hiding behind some garden furniture. He was bleeding from a couple of smaller wounds, earned through some Muggle contraption. Nott had no idea what a hunting rifle was, had no idea how lucky his minion was that the rifle Beatrice Granger used was only meant for rabbits and similar small game, the calibre not big enough to put real holes into the man. But it certainly would hurt like hell.

One of the other juniors tried to distract the couple by sending a Reducto through the window while their leader, overeager to prove his worth, opened the door.

Bad move.

Very bad move.

Ben Granger wasn't interested in hunting like his dear wife. He wasn't a great shot and he had only a few hours of training under his belt. However, he had two advantages:

-An easy target, with the Death Eater standing in the door, the sun illuminating him and giving him no way to dodge the attack.

-A real weapon in his hand. A crossbow was certainly not a fast weapon and he would only have this one shot, but hell did it count. A low 'thud' was everything that warned the Death Eater of his fate. A blink of an eye later, a heavy bolt tore through his neck, ending all plans he ever had about getting into the Inner Circle one day. Seconds later the last two junior Death Eaters jumped into the room, but their leader didn't notice. Dull, wide eyes stared at the ceiling. How could this happen to him?

.

Andromeda and Ted Tonks arrived on the scene just in time to see one Death Eater jump through the shattered window, the last one hesitating for a moment as he saw something through the open door. Instantly, Andromeda hurried towards the house, while Ted stopped and sent a couple of spells towards the visible target. Within seconds he had him disarmed and stunned. For a moment his fear to be too late was overridden by the joy of victory. It only lasted a couple of seconds.

.

"Expelliarmus!"

The Death Eater was actually able to disarm Ben Granger, not that it helped him in any way as Ben would need far too long to reload the weapon anyway. The Death Eater glanced around, noticed the other Muggle contraption in the woman's hand. He had noticed the small wounds in his comrades body out in the garden, realized that this weapon wasn't as dangerous as the one the man used.

"Stupe…"

"PEACE!" Ben's use of the Templar's powers wasn't nearly on par with Cullen's. He wouldn't be able to stun a couple of Unspeakables with one shout, didn't even stun this young Death Eater – at least not for long. However, his shout was certainly distracting and he had enough force behind it to stagger the man for a second or two, long enough for Beatrice to make good use of her rifle. The calibre may not be big enough to knock out a full-grown man, but the butt certainly was. Jumping forward, she made good use of her body weight and the trained muscles in her arms to swing the weapon and violently hit him with the blunt end of it. He staggered, stunned but not unconscious. Kicking him into the groin in a most unladylike manner, she waited for him to bend over. Letting loose of her rifle, she grabbed his head by the ears and kneed him in the face. The noise of his nose breaking was very gratifying, as was the sight of him going down like a sack of potatoes.

_Muggles for the win._

.

Out in the garden things weren't equally good for the side of the light.

Ted Tonks, content with his small victory, just started to run after his wife, when he noticed something out of the corner of his eyes. Something, someone was moving there. Before he had a chance to react, three stunners hit Andromeda in the back, knocking her out in a blink of an eye.

"Prot…"

A widespread Reducto hit him before his shield came into existence, staggering him long enough for Nott to get him down. "Rectumsempra!" Endless pain filled Ted Tonks as he went down. His wand clattered to the ground. For a few seconds he had the time to wonder about his wife, what would happen to her. Then, it all went dark.

Ted Tonks didn't see any more how Nott and his comrades left their hideout, passed him and showered the Granger house with blasting hexes, forcing the Grangers into cover while they seized the unconscious Andromeda Tonks. The Dark Lord wouldn't be happy about the losses, Nott knew, as he freed and enervated the junior Death Eater near the door. One man dead, another injured and a third… he didn't know if he was dead or only unconscious. He had to get away before others arrived. The trap had worked, only this was important. He had her and his sister was safe.

With a last glance towards the blood-traitor who was bleeding to death he ordered:

"Retreat!"

.

_**A/N**_

_A few explanations:_

_I wanted to have Cullen absent at the battle because he would change it too much with his abilities. And I really loved to show of Ironsides spells. By the way: I used an online Orcish dictionary for the spells. I liked the sound of it._

_At the double date I omitted the usual "Hermione meets old school tormentors" incidents. In my opinion they appear in too many other stories and even the stupidest bully wouldn't harass her with someone like Cullen at her side._

_About McDonald: the anecdote is a true one. On my first visit to Paris in 1990, I heard about a five year break the fast food restaurant had been forced to take in the 80s by the health office._

_If you have read my "Congregation" story, you'll recognize the Hagrid's wand turned into a Horcrux story. I'm recycling here as I did with a number of side characters._


	10. Chapter 10 The Lady in Pink

_**A/N**_

_I'm not completely satisfied by my rendition of the Cullen character. In the beginning, I wanted him to be more naïve, shy and very cute around girls (especially Luna). He's too dominant now (for a 20years old) and his influence on the war is too great. However, it's too late to change this so and I'll leave it like this. _

**.**

**The Lady in Pink**

.

_**St. Mungo's – waiting room**_

.

The Grangers were sitting together, Hermione between her parents, trembling wildly as heart-rending sobs shook Hermione's body. She had been like this since Cullen brought her to St. Mungo's, to tell about the attack, Andromeda's abduction and Ted Tonks life-threatening injuries. He left her in her parents' care and joined the healers still fighting for Ted's life.

"It's my fault," she whined. She was inconsolable. Even her mother hadn't been able to stop her self-reproaches. Hermione now looked up, her eyes searching for Tonks. The young Auror with the bubble-gum hair was waiting a few steps down the corridor. She had been conversing with Kingsley Shacklebolt and Hestia Jones for a while in lowered voices. Now she waited like the rest of them for news, any news. Tonks looked up as the bushy-haired girl approached her.

"I'm so sorry, Tonks," she sniffed. "It's my fault this happened."

Tonks threw her an inscrutable look and didn't respond for a while. Only as Hermione turned around, her shoulders sagging – unaware of the glare Beatrice Granger sent Tonks' way – did she react. "Then it would be best if I called Kingsley to haul you off to Azkaban, don't you agree?" Tonks muttered with a gravelly voice.

Hermione whirled around, looking completely flabbergasted.

"Abducting my mother, cursing my father with such a dark spell… you sure have some weight to shoulder, young lady," Tonks nodded to her own statement in mock agreement.

"Wha… I didn't curse your father." As far gone as she was right now, Hermione wasn't able to grasp the concept of irony and sarcasm, something Tonks had easily detected. Luckily her years in the Auror corps had hardened her enough to survive this hour without having an emotional breakdown of her own.

"Yes, you did. You were waiting there in the bushes, and ordered the Death Eaters to lure my parents to your home by attacking your parents. Then you, in a backstabbing way, attacked them and tried to murder him. You just admitted it."

"I did no such thing," Tonks happily noticed a hint of annoyance and anger in her voice.

"Yes, you did."

"Did not."

"Did too."

"Did not." Colour slowly came back to Hermione's cheeks.

"You said 'It's my fault', did you not?"

"Yes, because… because your mother became our magical guardian, that's why they were able to lure her to our house and abduct her, and injure your father."

"Oh, that," Tonks nodded gravely. "Bad thing you did there, forcing mum to subscribe to the guardianship. I assume you used blackmail to force her. Or was it the Imperious?"

"Don't be silly," Hermione pouted. "She did it voluntarily."

"I assume you didn't order the Death Eaters to attack your parents either?" Hermione only glared in return.

"Did you at least use a Compulsion Charm to force my parents to come to your family's defence?" Hermione shook her head, slowly understanding what Tonks was talking about as her own rationality broke through her emotional tumult. "Did you cast this dark curse on my father? Abduct my mother? Perhaps to protect yourself?" Another weak shake of her head answered those silly questions.

Without further ado, Tonks pulled her into her arms. "Hermione, it was my parents' decision, both concerning the guardianship and their attempt to defend your parents. Nobody knew that 'His' followers would use the connection to catch my mother. We didn't even know about the threat itself. Anyway, they would have found another way. I won't lie, Hermione: I'm frightened. No, I'm terrified. I don't know if I'll ever see her again... I don't know if my father will survive the next hour. But none of this was your fault or your parents'. Do you understand?"

She nodded against Tonks' chest, sniffling: "but…"

"No but," Tonks stopped her. "You know: Harry told me about this one girl that had to convince him more than once that it wasn't his fault: not the petrification, nor meeting with a Werewolf, or the curse in the Ministry. Each time he blamed himself. And each time there was this girl convincing him otherwise. Do you per chance know who this girl could have been?"

Another small nod and a weak "me".

"Yes, you," Tonks smiled softly. "Could you perhaps take a bit of your own medicine right now?"

"I'll try."

"That's all anybody can ask for."

.

"For you," Ben handed him a mug of steaming hot tea.

"Thank you," Cullen accepted it, still feeling exhausted and in need of something 'spiritual'. Noticing something, he sniffed curiously at the mug: "I didn't know they served alcoholics around here."

"They don't," Ben Granger happily admitted. "It's a present from Mister Shacklebolt."

Cullen turned around and greeted the bald Auror with a raise of his mug, before he took a first sip. "Aaah, I needed that."

Ben Granger silently watched him for a few minutes, before he softly asked: "he'll really be alright, won't he?"

"Yes," Cullen sighed. "It was a close call, but they were able to stabilize him long enough for me to break the curse. After that they could heal him in a more traditional way. He should be alright in a week or two – except for his concern for his wife."

"I hope they find her soon."

"I hope it too, but I admit I have my doubts. Especially as we don't know why he ordered her abduction, or what his plans are for her."

"And you don't know how much time you have for the search."

"There is that, too, yes," Cullen agreed.

For a while they drank their tea in silence, each following their own thoughts. After a while it was Cullen who broke the silence. "One of the healers said something interesting. He offered me a job at St. Mungo's, for cases similar to this."

"With the lack of people of your abilities in the wizarding world, it makes sense."

"Yes, however…"

"You have other duties."

"Exactly," Cullen sighed.

"You could ask Marius. He was the best among us in learning your ways. He still needs something to spend his time with. Curse-Healer Black has a nice ring to it," Ben grinned.

"That's an idea. I'll ask him."

"And Cullen," Ben stated with a determined voice. "I want to learn more, too. At the beginning I only wanted to help Harry and it's still my priority. But the few hours I spent training with the crossbow and this magic-denial ability – it already rescued Beatrice and me once. They were only trainees and I don't think we would have been able to defend ourselves against trained Death Eaters…. but I need to know more. I need your training. It's not right that my sixteen-year old daughter is the only one fighting for this family. She'll never leave Harry's side and I want to support her."

"It would certainly ease her mind as well," Cullen admitted "to know that you could defend yourself. Alright, Ben, we'll continue the training. Argus and Marius will join us too." He suddenly grinned and raised his mug: "Squib-power for the win."

Ben reciprocated the gesture: "Squib-power for the win."

.

_**Ministry of Magic – near the office of Amelia Bones**_

.

"Please have a seat," Amelia Bones' secretary gestured towards a seating group in the waiting area. "Madam Bones will be available to receive you in a few minutes."

Cullen thanked her with a curt nod. Tonks had wanted to accompany him, but he had urged her to stay with her father. At least Ted Tonks was stable now. The healers expected him to wake up within a few hours and he would certainly appreciate to have a familiar face around. He only came to Amelia to have a short talk about the progress in the search of Andromeda Tonks – not that he expected many news this soon – and to see if he could help in any way. Like Hermione, he felt a tad guilty about the whole matter. After all, it had been his idea to appoint Andromeda as the Grangers' guardian.

A door not far down the corridor opened and one of the Senior Aurors left his office. He had never met the man but recognized him from pictures. The stories about him hadn't been the best. According to rumours, Senior Auror John Dawlish was the epitome of mindless discipline and non-questioning obedience. He didn't question orders from his superiors and was one of the favourite tools of Minister Fudge and Lucius Malfoy.

Lucius Malfoy…

Cullen narrowed his eyes and watched the man more closely. He was accompanied by someone he equally didn't know personally but had no problems to identify: Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge. They were conversing like little traitors, and not very unobtrusively. More than once they glanced around or looked suspiciously in his direction. Cullen allowed his senses to reach out and feel their auras. Both had more darkness in them than he was happy to acknowledge. Again it wasn't very surprising. Someone who used blood quills on children would certainly not refrain from other dark magics. And an experienced Auror like Dawlish had certainly been forced to use dark spells more than once, and had probably been the target of more than one dark attack. However, there was something else. Hopefully he was wrong about it, but it was something he had to examine more closely all the same.

"Madam Bones is now ready to receive you."

.

"I'm sorry, Steward Cullen, not to have better news."

"I assumed as much," Cullen grimaced. He was sitting in Amelia Bones' office with Kingsley Shacklebolt. They had been speaking in detail about the progress – or better: non-progress – of the search.

"The usual contacts don't know anything," Kingsley apologized. "We would need an Inner Circle member to learn more about his plans, I fear."

Cullen nodded gravely and narrowed his eyes, thinking about something. "Speaking of… I mean, could you please invite Auror Dawlish to our little session?"

"Dawlish? He isn't part of the team appointed to this case. He isn't very good at… at sensible cases." It wasn't difficult to notice how much Kingsley despised his 'comrade'.

"It's not about that. I've seen him with Madam Umbridge a few minutes ago."

"Did you now?" Amelia growled. She hadn't exactly forbidden Dawlish to speak with her but the investigation of the 'sending Professor McGonagall to St. Mungo's' case was still underway. The current happenings were the only reason why she hadn't hurried on the investigation so far… To speak with Madam Umbridge was seriously unprofessional behaviour on Dawlish's side.

"Perhaps you could invite him in and talk about this attack for a while."

"I am sure there is a good reason for your weird request…."

"There is," Cullen responded without really answering her question.

"Alright, alright, you get your wish," Amelia mumbled darkly... "Kings, go fetch him please."

.

A few minutes later, John Dawlish was sitting in the office, suspiciously eyeing Cullen and behaving like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. As requested, Amelia started to speak with him about the attack on Minerva McGonagall and Dawlish gave his statement. It wasn't difficult to detect that it was an agreed-upon statement, committed to memory and not very believable. The main argument was the presence of a 'simple misunderstanding'. Apparently it was an attempt to get both, Umbridge and Dawlish, off the hot seat.

Cullen however, wasn't really interested in the whole matter, something Amelia noticed immediately. Instead he watched Dawlish closely and used his vicinity to get a better feeling of his aura. He had been right: Dawlish had been the target and caster of dark spells, and was tainted by dark magic nearly as much as Severus Snape, and also about the one thing he had sensed in the corridor…

"Do you have any questions for Auror Dawlish, Steward Cullen?" Amelia asked after a while.

"No, thank you," Cullen shook his head. "I only wanted to hear his side, interrupt the investigation. Thank you for your help, Auror Dawlish."

"Then you're dismissed, Auror Dawlish. Return to your work." Amelia Bones waited for him to leave the office before she addressed Cullen: "and the reason for this nonsense was?"

"I needed to be around him for a few minutes to get a feeling of his aura."

"And your investigation told you what?" She asked, feeling like she didn't really want to hear his answer.

"Auror Dawlish was hit with dark magic many times. He learned and used quite a number of dark spells, less than Professor Snape but far more than Lady Malfoy or Auror Shacklebolt." He allowed them a moment to handle these news. "And he is a Death Eater."

Kingsley paled visibly and Amelia asked hoarsely: "what? Are you certain?"

Cullen nodded gravely. "It's difficult to differentiate between an overall tainted aura and the mark, but it is possible. I didn't want to expose him right away in case you wanted to use that knowledge against him."

"Good thinking," Kingsley praised. Amelia nodded, her expression thoughtful.

"Could you do this with others too?"

Cullen pondered about this for a moment. "I could have a walk around and tell you which Ministry officials have a dark aura, yes. Well darker than could be expected as I assume many purebloods will be like Lady Malfoy: she was taught some dark magic but never really used it. To know more details we would have to arrange similar meetings. However, I fear this would be somewhat an obvious plot. What reason would I have to run around the Ministry? With your Aurors it would be more practical to allow me to attend a longer meeting when they assemble."

"Could you teach this to someone else?" Kingsley asked.

"What do you have in mind?"

"I thought about hiring someone, perhaps a new office boy. Or perhaps someone hired to make a survey, something about security and the changes of the past months. Any reason to have someone running around and get to meet as many people as possible."

"That should be feasible. You would have to find someone trustworthy. And he would have to be a squib." Amelia nodded to that. She already heard the rumours of his abilities not meshing very well with 'real magic'. "However, as he'll work for you, I would only teach him this one detection ability, not more."

"I understand," Amelia answered. She really did. His abilities had something to do with belief and morals. This 'office boy' would be her man, not his. "It would still be helpful."

.

"Imperio!"

She knew she was overreacting.

She knew this was incredible dangerous and risky.

However, she couldn't help it. A mix of rightful fury and animal fear was gripping her right now, a terrifying mix of emotions not allowing her to clearly think things through. She simply had to act and she had to do it now. Dawlish had left the office of Amelia Bones near tears. He stammered about the bony bitch interrogating him and how coward Cullen had been there, staring at him like he knew every one of his secrets. Most of his fear came from Dawlish's suspicion about Cullen knowledge of his Death Eater status, but Dolores Umbridge didn't know that part. She assumed Dawlish's fear only had to do with their little stunt last June, assumed him to be near his breaking point and ready to admit what actually happened, that she had ordered him to attack her 'colleague'.

McGonagall had deserved it, deserved the pain for what she did to Dolores' beloved cat saucers. Dolores adored her cat saucers, their pink colour and bow ties. To see them changed, with new colours and without ties, it was like a blasphemy. It had only been one of many, far too many times, the disgusting blood-traitor had belittled her. She had paid for it in the end. Regretfully she hadn't died.

However, now it was time to cut ties and hide all traces of wrongdoings. She had to get rid of Dawlish. If that blasted squib went down too, it would only be the icing on the cake. She intended to draw him to the guard-room near the main court. Despite the current investigation, she still was Undersecretary Dolores Umbridge, and still had all authorities to prepare this little surprise party. Her faced shifted into an ugly grimace, as she imagined Cullen's face as he met Dolores little helpers.

_I'll have to record a memory of this_, she thought with a vicious grin. _The screams, the sight – I won't ever forget it. It will be like an early Christmas present. Happy Christmas to you, little Dolores. Happy Christmas to you…_

.

He sensed the attack before he saw it. Trusting his battlefield experience, Cullen drew his sword and deflected the spell before it was able to connect with Kingsley Shacklebolt. Instead of reaching the Auror it hit the wall, creating a long, viscous gap in it. Kingsley crouched down and drew his wand, while Cullen made an impressive backward flip to dodge a Reducto that blasted a big hole into the ground. Without the weight of his armour he was incredible agile.

"Protego!"

Only now was Kingsley able to notice and recognize his attacker: Auror Dawlish. The Cutting Curse hit the shield with a screeching noise. Not waiting to watch the effect, Dawlish whirled around and hurried away, followed an instant later by Cullen and Shacklebolt.

Why? Why would he do this? How could he be so stupid?

Kingsley was mesmerized by the surprising development. He never had expected such a reaction after the more or less harmless conversation. Had Dawlish noticed the real reason of the meeting? Perhaps he had been able, despite Amelia's carefulness, to eavesdrop on them after he left. But what could he get from attacking them? Even if he killed them, there was still Amelia. And the chances of taking down both of them were slim at best. Dawlish was good, but not nearly good enough for such a stunt. Something was very wrong about this.

"It's a trap," he coughed towards Cullen while they hunted Dawlish through the corridors, exchanging spells now and then. Cullen only nodded. He had assumed the same.

"Should we call in for help or put him and his possible allies down ourselves?"

"I never was very patient," Cullen grinned. Kingsley grinned back. Cullen was more to his liking than he had initially thought after his last talk with the headmaster.

"Then let us stop procrastinating. We have a Death Eater to catch."

.

They raced through the corridors and were now approaching the area with the courtrooms. Kingsley had a vague suspicion about their destination, somewhere deep in his mind was hiding the knowledge about the nature of Dawlish's ambush. However, he couldn't be right. Dawlish didn't have the authority to do THAT. Kingsley dodged another cutting curse and followed Cullen into the room. It appeared far bigger than usual with no audience waiting, no judges and no culprit. He expected Dawlish's comrades to leave their hiding spots any moment, so he wasn't surprised as the door behind them slammed shut.

Cullen's eyes however widened. He felt something. It neared their position. This couldn't be. THEY couldn't be here, not in the middle of the Ministry. Not even the most hard-headed official would make use of THEM. The door to the adjoining waiting room opened and for a moment they saw a flash of something – a pink cardigan.

Before they had a chance to think about it or to address the matter of Dawlish who was waiting near the judge table like a disabled automaton, a couple of shadows entered the courtroom. One by one a row of Dementors entered the room, eight in all, one as frightening as the next. Within moments ice-cold darkness gripped them. Kingsley, as experienced as he was, was barely able to call forth his Patronus. The lynx didn't hesitate a second before attacking the Dementors. They shrank back, but only for a few steps. A single Patronus wasn't enough to stall eight Dementors for long.

Kingsley tried to open the door but it didn't budge. It was no alleviation to see one of the Dementors dodge his lynx and attack the nearest target: Dawlish. With terror-filled eyes but an otherwise unmoving body, he simply stood there, waiting for the inevitable.

"Not him, those," a high-pitched voice commanded suddenly and the Dementor turned around again. Behind him, Dawlish plumped to the ground, unconscious at least. Kingsley had no way to know if Umbridge had been fast enough to rescue her conspirator – and he actually didn't care. With wonder he noticed Cullen standing in the middle of all this, unperturbed. He didn't look one bit frightened, only incredible angry.

Umbridge sent a piercing hex towards him that Kingsley was barely able to deflect. A cutting curse followed, and a second one.

"I call you forth," Cullen's voice suddenly thundered. "Andraste, lend me your cleansing flame."

"Avada Kedavra!" Kings hadn't expected her to use such a dark curse, had perhaps underestimated her magical power and hate. He banished a heavy oaken table into the spell's path just in time. It splintered under the impact, one large splinter making a deep cut on Cullen's face.

"Purge this darkness from this world, and destroy this blasphemy of nature."

Neither Umbridge nor Kingsley were able to cast any further spells, with no clear targets in this mess of bodies, and the Auror didn't dare to jump into the middle of this, not with eight hungry Dementors fast-approaching the Patronus and Templar.

"Begone! Foul creatures of the Fade, burn in Andraste's flame."

Suddenly there was only brightness, a dazzling, stunning brightness completely blinding all humans in the courtroom, as a pillar of light and fire erupted in the middle of the room, covering humans and Dementors alike. Inhuman screeches and human cries filled the air, mingling into a cacophony of pain. Kingsley felt something burning in him, dragging and tugging at his edges, burning his mind and heart. It was painful but tolerable and left him in an odd state of bliss. Not able to avoid it, he felt his legs sagging and within moments found himself kneeling on the ground, weeping in joy. All the pain of the past, all the memories of having seen comrades die, of Death Eaters torturing Muggles and Wizards alike, was suddenly gone. Kingsley could still feel the knowledge of the dark spells he had been forced to learn, could still sense his old battle scars, but somehow it wasn't as important anymore. It wasn't burdening his soul in the same way. There was someone out there accepting him with all his human faults.

Another human was hit too, but his reaction was far less positive. Measuring him, gauging him and judging him as unworthy, the fire burned him, tore away the darkness in his soul and set the Dark Mark covering his forearm aflame. He jumped around in pain, trying to put the fire out without success. Dawlish's voice rose higher and higher. The fire spread slowly from the mark throughout his body, followed the lines of darkness that meshed Voldemort's magic with his own, that allowed his master to call him, to pull onto his magical reserves in times of need. The connection was too close, too permanent to survive it. His nerves set aflame Dawlish slowly succumbed to the pain, and slumped to the ground. It was a mesmerizing, terrifying sight.

Around him the Dementors fared even worse. For a few seconds they were able to endure the light. Then, one by one, their cloak-like bodies burst into flames. Like mad they flew around, unable to stand the light, but also unable to avoid it. Kingsley's lynx who had nearly succumbed to the Dementors' might, now grew in size and power. Within seconds it passed the size of a full-grown sheepdog and reached the shoulder-height of a small pony. His light was far brighter than ever before and he started to attack the painful screaming Dementors. Each of his bites or claw attack brought another dementor down until not a single one was left behind.

Then, there was only silence.

.

"YOU!"

With Cullen's adrenalin level still as high as it possibly could, he did not have the slightest problem to deflect the first spell with his sword and dodge the next. Without preamble he pushed Kingsley out of the way and gestured for him to stay back.

"You worthless bastard," Dolores fumed. With every step she send another spell towards the Templar, each darker than the one before. Still standing in the waiting room, she had mostly avoided the effect of that purifying light and while she felt very sick right now, she hadn't started to burn like Dawlish. And she certainly didn't feel any bliss like Kingsley.

"Blood mage," Cullen sneered in her direction. He felt only hate right now, a rightful fury at her use of those creatures. He had known she was evil but only now did he realize the depths of her depravity. "You don't deserve magic. It is the maker's gift to your kind and you abused it to call forth these fool creatures."

For a few moments Dolores Umbridge hesitated and stared at him with eyes bare of any understanding. Then, deciding it wasn't worth to ponder about his words, she advanced again. She would regret this decision for the rest of her miserable life. She sent a number of cutting curses and piercing hexes towards him, none of them connecting as he swatted them away like meaningless flies. Dolores Umbridge had no time to ponder about Kingsley's inaction or the pounding on the door s she shoulted:

"CRUCIO!"

Cullen hesitated for a single step, before his iron will and training, more than a bit supported by his sheer fury, overcome her puny attempt at causing him pain. Finishing the short distance, he pulled his sword back and stabbed her into the stomach.

"Urgh!" With wide eyes Dolores Umbridge stared first at Cullen's sword, protruding from her own body, then into Cullen's face that did not show a hint of mercy. He would have preferred to use the tranquillity ritual on her, burning away the evilness that had gripped this disgusting woman completely. However, even in his state he realized that there was no chance they would allow such a thing to happen. He wasn't even certain he wanted them to have this knowledge. So he had to choose another way, a harsher and more direct way. Concentrating on the weapon, Cullen gathered his whole power and started to channel it towards her magical core.

"In the name of the maker I renounce his gift to you. I declare thee unworthy of magic."

"Cullen, don't," Kingsley tried to stop him. He made two steps towards him, before something crunched under his foot. Looking down he saw the crispy remains of a Dementor. She had sent those creatures towards them. Even his Patronus wouldn't have been enough to keep them away. Without Cullen's abilities he would now be a gibbering idiot, unable to feel anything, to think anything – a fate worse than death, Kingsley decided. He halted his step and shut his mouth. No, he wouldn't stop Cullen from whatever he intended to do.

"Face the maker's wrath, Dolores Umbridge. Accept his verdict. Blood mage, demon worshipper – may the divine fire cleanse you."

Somewhere in between his words, Dolores started to scream in endless pain. Unable to stand any longer, she was now on her knees and weakly tried to get away from the blade, from Cullen and the pain. Something burned deep within her. Her core tried to battle Cullen's powers but slowly succumbed to them. A last high-pitched wail permeated the air, before she mercifully lost consciousness and slumped to the ground. Thick pearls of sweat covered Cullen's face and neck. Exhausted, he drew his sword back and looked down on the human being that had been Dolores Umbridge, the witch. Nothing would ever be like it once was for her.

With a crash the door to the courtroom opened.

.

Amelia Bones and a handful of Aurors stormed into the courtroom but stopped cold at the sight of Kingsley's immense Patronus still prowling on the floor.

"What happened, Kings?" Amelia demanded to know, sending two of her Aurors towards Dawlish and Umbridge for a first examination. Cullen was still staring at the woman, unmoving.

"Dawlish attacked us, lured us into this room. Umbridge was lying in wait. She ordered eight Dementors to attack us." Amelia gasped, only now realizing what those leftovers on the ground stood for. "Without Cullen…" Amelia nodded slowly, understanding, thankful for the Templar's presence – at least until he erupted into action.

Stunning everybody with his reaction, he jumped Amelia Bones, grabbed her neck and pushed her against the wall. Only Kingsley stopped the Aurors from instantly attacking him, as Cullen yelled:

"How could you allow Demons to prowl the Ministry's halls?"

"Cullen…"

"Demons, Amelia, Demons," he screamed nearly out of control. "I thought you were an honourable woman, a woman of beliefs and morals."

"Cullen, let her go," Kingsley softly put his hand on his. Something in his voice, perhaps a lingering effect of the light that had cleansed him, somehow permeated the blood-red fog around Cullen's mind. "Let her go." Cullen actually obeyed and made a single step back. His face was still a mask of fury.

"These aren't demons," Amelia attempted to explain. "They are Dementors. The Ministry uses them as prison guards and… and for executions."

"Didn't you listen to anything I told you?" Cullen responded, now more sad than angry. "Demons live from human emotions. Your Dementors do the same. The name is no coincidence. They have no place in this world."

"They serve the Ministry, Cullen," Amelia explained with a sad sigh. "I'm not happy, but I can't do anything about it."

"They'll betray you. They aren't trustworthy."

"They already have in the past," Kingsley agreed. "They joined you-know-who's cause in the first war."

"Then it's only a question of time until they'll do it again," Cullen stated determinedly. "How many of these creatures exist in 'the Ministry's service'?" It was hard to overhear the sarcasm.

"Around two hundred," Amelia admitted.

"Two hundred?" Cullen's knees trembled. "Do you have an idea how much damage two hundred of them could do, how much havoc they could bring over the British population?"

"We have the Patronus spell," Amelia weakly defended the Ministry's decision, despite her being against it for years. She really was no fan of them, thought their use to be inhuman. And as Kingsley already remarked: they had proven not to be trustworthy.

"And what about the Muggles? Have they a Patronus spell, too? How many wizards and witches will be willing to risk their life and sanity to protect them?"

Amelia had no answer to this.

"Find a way to get rid of them, Madam Bones," he was far more formal now than only minutes ago. "Find a way to extinguish them or I'll do it for you."

"You can't…" One of the Aurors started but Kingsley instantly stopped him: "shut up."

Very sad Cullen stared Amelia into the eye: "I trusted you, Madam Bones. I'm not sure I still can." Without another word he left the room, leaving behind a shell-shocked Amelia Bones, her Aurors and two victims of the maker's wrath.

.

"He means it, Amelia. If you don't find a solution for the Dementors, he'll declare his own little war. Whatever hate and disgust I feel towards them, especially now after their attack, is nothing against his fury. For him they're a blasphemy that has to be eradicated."

"I know, Kings, I know," Amelia sighed. "I just have no idea…"

She turned around and looked expectantly at the Aurors who had examined Dawlish and Umbridge: "what about their condition?"

"Dawlish is dead," the Auror stated with a composed voice. "Something burned the Dark Mark and apparently every bit of dark magic in his body away, completely destroying his nerve system. I assume it was the same kind of magic that destroyed the Dementors." He shuddered. The Auror hadn't known it was even possible to actually destroy a single Dementor, never mind eight of them.

"And Madam Umbridge?"

"She's seriously injured but not in a life-threatening manner. However,…" he hesitated.

"What?"

"She didn't react to my healing spells. We had to patch her up the Muggle way, with bandages."

Amelia stared at the unconscious woman and thought that she looked a bit like a mummy – or a wrapped up toad.

"How's that possible?"

The Auror shrugged. "The healers at St. Mungo's will have to examine them."

"And your best guess?"

He sighed. "According to my investigation… her magical core… it somehow cracked."

"What?"

He shrugged non-committedly: "something caused her magical core to crack. There are traces of magic, but I assume they're only leftovers. Once they trickle away, she won't be a witch anymore, perhaps not even a squib."

"You're telling me that Madam Umbridge will be a Muggle?" Her face was a mix of slight horror and a fair amount of glee.

"I assume so," he shrugged again. He was Muggleborn with a niece at Hogwarts right now. He would certainly not shed a tear over her fate. "Only time will tell."

Amelia left the courtroom with Kingsley at her side, leaving Dawlish and Umbridge to the care of her team of Aurors. "I fear," she whispered after a while "that I'll have to take Steward Cullen even more seriously than before."

Kingsley nodded gravely, already thinking about his report to Albus Dumbledore. The old man, leader of the light, wasn't going to like hearing about this one bit.

.

_**Dream or Reality?**_

.

"Hello my dear," Snakeface smiled with no real humour in his voice as he greeted her. "How are you at his wonderful morning?"

_So it was morning right now. But of which day?_ Andromeda Tonks had lost any sense of time. She was shackled to the wall but it could have been worse. Ophelia Nott had been down here with a house elf of her own family and clearly instructed him to care for her. There was always a warming spell on the bare cell, she had a moderately clean blanket and the water and garbage buckets got emptied twice a day. The meals had been simple but sufficient so far. She had expected to get tortured and raped every waking moment – and perhaps every unconscious one too – however, apart from a few Crucio rounds to 'make her feel welcome' nothing had happened so far. Andromeda felt thankful towards Nott's younger sister, especially after she heard her making it clear to the younger Death Eaters guarding her what would happen to their 'small parts' should one of them overstep the line.

"Too bad that none of your sisters is able to greet you, to make you feel welcome in my humble home," he sighed in mock exasperation. "Narcissa regretfully declined my last invitation," for a short moment hate crossed his face "and Bella… she's still a prisoner of those Ministry idiots. I hope to resolve both matters until Christmas." He sighed, bent down and patted Nagini's head. The giant snake had been at his feet the whole time, watching Andromeda very closely as if she was some mice ready to be fed to her. "Unfortunately, you won't be here anymore by then."

Andromeda felt a shiver. Hopefully he didn't intend to really use her as animal food. It was something he had done in the past, according to rumours.

"Oh, no, Andromeda," he said, apparently reading her face or mind "for you I have something different in mind. You see: I have need of your soul." He grinned bastardly.

"M…my soul?"

"M…my soul?" He repeated to mock her. "It will help me to stay immortal," he explained, feeling talkative apparently. "Next Halloween we'll use your death and soul to create something that will secure my immortal status. I think it will be some kind of poetic justice after all these years you lived as a blood-traitor. Don't you agree?"

Her mind raced, unwilling to succumb to the sheer horror of his news. "Horcrux?" she asked, her face very pale. "You want to turn me into a Horcrux?"

"Ah, I see, you at least read the books in the Black library," he seemed really happy about that. "However, not you per se. That honour will stay with my adorable Nagini. I'll use an object that has been in my care for decades to be turned into a Horcrux. Your death will be the fuel necessary to make the ritual work. Now don't you feel precious?" He grinned maliciously.

"You're an evil bastard," Andromeda Tonks screamed. "Burn in hell."

His face turned towards a mask of hate. "Been there, done that. Have no interest to repeat the experience." His eyes narrowed. "Too bad I promised Nott that nothing serious would happen to you until then. He has always been too weak, always too soft-hearted towards his sister." Snakeface glared at her, his face a grimace of hate and disgust. "Otherwise I would have sent in a few of my men. They would break your pride in hours, and make you beg for your death." Andromeda shuddered again. She had no doubt about that promise and felt thankfulness rise again in her heart.

Suddenly his face turned into an ugly grin, far more frightening than his previous hate. "However, I'm a man of honour, standing to his word." She had something to say to that statement but didn't dare. _Don't provoke the animal, especially not such a mad, bloodthirsty one_.

"This doesn't mean there aren't other ways to make you see the errors of your ways." He pulled a vial from his robe. "I always wanted to test this. I call it Nightmare potion. It makes you experience your worst fears but only in your imagination. There won't be actual torture, pain and rape, however you'll still think that it is happening. It will be interesting to see how long it will need to break your mind. You see," his grin turned even worse "I only need your life and soul, not for your mind to remain sane."

He rolled his eyes as she tried to escape him. A single wave of his hand made her bound with magical ropes and completely helpless. With motions similar to a mother administering medicine to her sick child, he poured the vial's content into her mouth and massaged her throat to have her actually drink it.

"Happy dreams, little Andromeda, sweet happy dreams."

.

"Halloween," a boy mumbled far away. "We have time until Halloween." Thinking about the last part of his dream, he corrected himself: "no, we have to be faster than this."

.

_**Interlude – Cullen**_

.

"We have to help her," Harry urged. Hermione's arm was wound around his shoulders in a soothing way. "It must be sheer hell for her."

"We'll find a way," Cullen tried to calm him. "I will speak to Severus about this. If anybody can help it would be him."

"Okay," Harry attempted to sound convinced to no avail.

"But this means we have to act fast. We have to heal your scar and I have to train Ben and the others." Harry felt Hermione flinch at Cullen's mention of her father.

"Shouldn't we wait for the healing? So far my dreams have been very helpful, I think."

"It's your decision, really. Everything is prepared. We could do it now or a few days before the attack. I won't force you into accepting this. It's your head in the end, your risk. Yes, it is helpful, but I still don't like it, not one bit."

"You're really very unlike Headmaster Dumbledore, Cullen. You know that?" Harry smiled weakly.

Cullen responded with a shrug. "I hope I am. Consult your pillow and tell me about your decision tomorrow morning. I want to start the training as soon as possible." He turned towards Hermione who had been bafflingly silent so far. "Don't you want to try to convince me not to train your father?"

Her smile looked defeated. "Even if you agreed, there would be no chance in hell to convince my father. I inherited my stubbornness from him."

"Luckily you inherited the good looks from your mother," Harry tried to lighten the mood, earning him a punch on the shoulder.

"Git."

.

_**Voldemort's Lair**_

.

Severus Snape tried to stay calm as he found his way through the endless corridors. Goyle was leading him through this maze, as the only member from the Malfoy/Goyle/Crabbe trio not in the Ministry's care at the moment. Severus had chosen him as his contact because he trusted him to not attack him on first sight. It was a big risk to return. Not that he ever openly betrayed the Dark Lord, but he hadn't followed his summons either for a while. 'He' wouldn't be happy, especially with Severus' lack of information about Cullen's plans and abilities.

With Lucius as well as all three LeStranges out of the picture, he had no idea about the current pecking order. Nott had led the attack on the Granger home but Severus didn't believe for one moment that he was Lucius' replacement. Perhaps Dolohov, he mused, or Rookwood. The former Unspeakable certainly had the needed intellect, very unlike the Carrows – who were as mad as a Hutter – or Greyback, who was far too vicious and uncontrollable.

Everyone stopped talking as Goyle led Severus into the big room. Nearly a dozen Death Eaters were gathered, none of them looking friendly. It was a bad sign to see this kind of smile on his master's face.

"Severus," he greeted him "welcome, welcome. I'm so happy you could make it to our little gathering. We've missed you."

Severus bowed, not too deeply because 'He', quite accurately, would see it as a mocking gesture. "Milord, I'm here on behalf of my godson."

Voldemort's eyes narrowed and his face lost all friendliness. "So you aren't here to ask for leniency?"

"No, milord, I understand that I deserve your wrath for my procrastination."

"How indulgent of you, Severus," his eyes were narrow slits now. Flicking his wand, he sent two bone-breakers towards his potion master. Severus didn't even try to raise his own wand in defence. It wouldn't help him one bit. He could only hope that he was still useful enough for his former master to spare his life. With sick noises both of his legs broke under the spells' impact and he toppled to the floor. The Death Eaters around smirked but nobody dared to laugh. They remembered all too well their lord's reaction the last time. Only Goyle actually seemed a tad uneasy watching this.

"I'm very disappointed by your lack of enthusiasm to follow my invitations over the past few weeks, Severus." He waited for some kind of answer. As none came, he wondered: "no explanation, no excuses?"

"No, milord," Severus hissed in pain. "None would be to your satisfaction."

"Self-knowledge," Voldemort nodded "I like that." Obviously not enough to spare him a few rounds of Crucio curses, but at least they were only short applications. Apparently he wanted to hear what Severus hinted at with the mention of his godson. "With this little misunderstanding out of the way," he offered a false 'I'm an indulgent father' smile "what did you want to say in your godson's favour, Severus?" He sighed in mock hurt. "He betrayed me, Severus. His bitch of a mother and the little bastard dared to betray me. I can't allow this. You certainly agree, don't you?"

Luckily for Severus and Draco, Voldemort was actually impressed. He had always respected his potion master – at least insofar as he was able to feel such an emotion. Snape was an incredible potion master, intelligent and sharp-witted. He had self-control and a backbone, both things most of his other followers sorely lacked. To stand up for his godson even in this situation, with both legs broken and in obvious pain – he would at least hear him out.

"It wasn't meant as an act of betrayal," Severus dared to object. "Draco was clever enough to realize that the task wasn't meant as a chance to deem himself worthy, but as a punishment for Lucius' failure. He realized that he was expected to fail and die – during the attempt or afterwards."

Voldemort didn't even deny it.

"It was an act of cowardice, simply as that. Draco is only a little boy, no Death Eater material. It's a bitter pill for me to swallow but he's frightened to the core, terrified by the simple idea to go against a real wizard, especially one like Dumbledore."

"And you want me to spare him… because?"

"He's my godson. I made an oath to protect him."

"And what do you offer in return?"

"I'll take over his task." Severus' simple statement stunned even his master for a moment.

"You want to kill Dumbledore?"

"I do," Severus nodded. "He deserves to die and I deserve more than most others to be his defeater." He didn't have to explain his reasoning to his master. Voldemort knew about most of the times Albus had betrayed him in the past. He had seen the memory of that moment twenty years ago, when a young man, terrified by the sight of a Werewolf snapping at him, hoped for support only to be threatened with obliviation and expulsion shouldn't he stay silent about the whole incident. "I don't have his full trust anymore, but I can still get close enough to have a realistic chance to get him." He stared his master in the eyes. "Allow Draco to live – be it here in an administrative function and moneylender, or somewhere out of Britain – and I'll kill Albus Dumbledore."

Voldemort pondered the offer for a while. Severus obviously had other reasons to return. He was a Slytherin, so he naturally had more than one reason for his actions. However, he seemed to be serious about this. "Are you willing to take an oath?"

"I am," Severus agreed without hesitation. He had thought about this before coming here. Severus had no intention to survive this war and should it actually happen – he could still decide when the moment arose whether he wanted to kill Albus or die of his own free will. It would depend on his condition then. In the worst case he would follow Albus' wishes, nevermind how much he hated the thought.

"I'll think about it, Severus," Severus didn't dare to feel relieved. "And now let's speak about your… how did you call it… your procrastination."

An endless, painful hour followed before he slipped into blissful unconsciousness.

.

"Drink this."

Without complaint Severus accepted the offered vial. He certainly wasn't a trusting man but Ophelia Nott had been fairly competent at potions and he believed her not to have the intent to poison him. Within moments he felt the worst pains subside.

"I patched you up as much as I was allowed to," she explained. Ophelia didn't have to tell him that she did nothing against the Crucio aftereffects. Voldemort liked his servants trembling for days after a round of punishment. "Your legs should already be okay if a bit sore. And I cleaned the other cuts and injuries. The yellow one," she pointed towards the sideboard with a few potions on it "is against…"

"The concussion, I know," Severus snarled. While he was thankful for her help, that didn't mean he had to show it.

"Behave, or I will reverse my healing."

"You wouldn't," Snape remarked without any doubt in his voice. "You were always too soft."

Ophelia sighed. "I fear you're right about that – on both counts."

"How long?" He asked after a moment of uneasy silence.

"Thirty hours," she answered, knowing that he wanted to know how long he had been unconscious.

He nodded slowly. Hopefully Andromeda would… Severus paled. "Where are my things?"

"Over there," she gestured to a little trunk. "The password is Bothriuridae."

He raised a single eyebrow in mock surprise. Severus knew enough about zoology to recognize the name of one of the scorpion families. "So I remind you of a scorpion?"

To his surprise, Ophelia glanced around, before she answered by showing him what she was hiding in her sleeve. He knew that little vial without annotation all too well. "Yes, you do."

"Does anybody know?"

"No," she shook her head. "I was the one to take care of you from the start."

"And what do you intend to do with it?"

"Follow your intention," she rolled her eyes. "What else?"

"What would you know about my intention?"

"It's not too difficult to guess," she grimaced. "However, my job would have been easier with a few hints on how to dose it."

"How is she doing?" Severus asked, deciding to drop the act. If she wanted to betray him, she would have done so already. He could only hope that the potion he had created after Potter's information did what it was meant to do.

"Bad," Ophelia sighed. "The days before your arrival were the worst. It got a tad better since then. Your medicine seems to help, as if it dampens the experience. She isn't really responsive however and is still screaming most of the time. I gave her five drops every six hours."

That seemed almost right. "If possible make it three every three to four hours. It will have a more evenly impact on her mind."

Ophelia acknowledged his advice with a curt nod.

"Can I see her?"

"Tomorrow perhaps," Ophelia responded.

"Why are you helping me?" He had to ask despite his own suspicions.

"I'm not doing this for you," Ophelia answered hoarsely. "I'm doing this for Cissy. And for her. I could have been in her stead, Severus. The Dark Lord wanted to use me should my brother fail in his task to get her."

"You were his incentive, his motivation," Severus started to understand.

"More like his sacrificial lamb," she smiled without humour. Ophelia stood up. "Rest a bit, I'll visit you again in a few hours."

Severus nodded weakly. He felt sleepy again. The short conversation had already used what small amount of endurance had been left. "And 'Phelia? Thank you – for everything."

.

_**A/N**_

_About John Dawlish: I know that he's not a DE in canon. I changed it however in this story. In addition I allowed a few more of the Death Eaters to flee at the Ministry disaster. _


	11. Chapter 11 Drill-Sergeant Cullen

_**A/N**_

_Unbetaed for now._

**.**

**Drill-Sergeant Cullen**

.

_**Ministry of Magic – Training Room – October 1996**_

.

"Thank you for your help, Croaker," Cullen said while taking a good look around. Together with Marius Black, Argus Filch and Benjamin Granger, he had arrived at the Ministry to continue their training. Usually it needed years of practice to learn how to competently use the weapons and acquire the skills of a Templar. Even with the help of this room he could only hope to teach them the basics. However, it was everything he could do with the narrow timeframe he was constrained to. And Cullen had no doubt that their presence could well become a decisive factor in the big battle.

"Amelia helped a lot too, Cullen," Croaker responded, watching the young man thoughtfully. Amelia had told him about their heated 'fall-out' a few days ago and he struggled to understand the reasoning behind it. Croaker shared the opinion of most Ministry workers on the Dementors: fearsome, weird and not very trustworthy, but you can't do without. He would add another point to this: better hire them and have them under your watchful eye than leave them to themselves and someday face their wrath. _Keep your friends close but your enemies closer_.

Cullen however had a different opinion about the whole matter, a different way to 'solve the problem': KILL THEM ALL.

Following his line of thoughts was easily comprehensible. Cullen equated them with Demons. According to him they were non-native creatures to this world, creatures that shouldn't be allowed to stay here because their sole reason of existence was to hurt humans. Feeding on their emotions and with the ability to destroy their souls – it was an opinion that had already been expressed a few times by others in the past. Their very nature had been a big point of discussion for decades. The Ministry didn't like those arguments as they disputed the Ministry's right to use them as guards and executioners. But Cullen certainly wasn't the only one thinking like this, his stance was only a tad more… volatile.

Amelia had tried more than once to get rid of them as well. She wasn't as opposed to them as Cullen was and she certainly understood the financial reason to make good use of them. However, she still thought of them as untrustworthy, which didn't bode well with a prison guard job description.

_Hopefully they'll reconcile again_, Croaker mused. _Cullen and Amelia need to cooperate if we want to succeed in this war_.

"This is a special training room of the DMLE. We originally set it up a few years ago to have a means of preparing Aurors for unusual missions. The time passes faster in this room and you actually age accordingly to being in here. Because of that it is not recommended to spend more than a few days or a very few weeks in this room. We tested a few different set-ups to find a middle way between offering the trainee a maximum of training time and not overtaxing his body. In the end we decided to schedule a seven to one ratio: you get seven days of training for every day spent herein."

"We'll have around two weeks of real time to prepare ourselves," Cullen responded calmly "to still have enough time afterwards for the rest of the preparations and plan-making."

"That would give you around three months of training time," Croaker calculated.

"Will that be enough?" Ben Granger inquired.

"It has to be," Cullen responded curtly. After a moment he added more softly and assertively: "I think it will be enough to teach you the basics. We won't be distracted and you're all eager and willing to learn. That's a far better situation than my own training when I was a teenager."

Ben Granger smirked. He shortly mused about the fact that Cullen's time as a teenager wasn't too far back but decided not to say this. Instead he nodded and asked: "will it be possible to get news from the outside?"

"Only per written messages," Croaker explained. "You'll be able to answer the same way. Because of the magic it's not possible for a messenger to enter the room once the time compression started. The shock would cause serious injuries. And we already learned that Patronus messages aren't especially useful. They retain the time frame of their originator, making the message spoken in sevenfold speed at its arrival in the room. No, we'll have to trust the written word. I intend to write you two times a day; that allows you to get news around every three training day. We'll send you our plans too about the operation as soon as we get news from Professor Snape."

Apart from Cullen's small group only a selected few knew about Severus' part in this plan. Amelia, Kingsley and Croaker were the only Ministry officials among those selected few.

"Alright, sounds good to me so far," Cullen accepted the explanation without further comment. "Let's have a look at our home for the next three months."

.

_**Hogwarts – Hospital Wing**_

.

"Two stabs before you do the circling motion," Madam Pomfrey corrected Luna's newest attempt at setting a broken bone.

The blonde Girl's usually so dreamy appearing eyes were full of concentration right now. She wanted to learn this; she had to learn this. Perhaps a life would depend on her abilities. This time she executed the spell perfectly and the dummy showed the proper result.

"Perfect, Luna," Madam Pomfrey commended her casting. "Well done, let's take a break. We don't want to overtax you."

For a second Luna looked like she wanted to complain but then she only nodded. There was no sense in disagreeing with the nurse. Madam Pomfrey had far more experience in how much she could ask her to do. In relaxed silence the two witches tidied the room. It was Luna's training room and the excuse of Cullen's absence at the same time. As far as the students knew, Cullen was ill and being treated at the Hospital Wing, his recovery delayed because his body didn't react well to healing magic.

His sick room actually had a 'patient' waiting for treatment. It was a practice dummy Madam Pomfrey got from Rosmelda Prewett, senior healer at St. Mungo's and an old friend of hers. It was charmed to show signs of all kind of diseases and injuries, from upset stomach to serious poisoning, from small cuts to life-threatening hexes. Today they trained how to set and heal broken bones, from broken noses to shattered femurs. Madam Pomfrey had been trying to lay her hands on one of those dummies for years, but so far the board of governors hadn't been willing to spend the money on it. Only now it seemed to change as they had accepted the need of a healing class for a selected few witches and wizards in preparation for a later Healer training.

"You have the touch, Luna," Madam Pomfrey remarked thoughtfully.

"The touch?" Luna wondered.

"It's how my trainer called it," Poppy smiled. "You 'feel' the body, the nuances of illness and injuries. You need it to become a proper healer. Everybody can force a broken bone together. However, to do it with the right amount of magic and tangent to address the injury, not to overtax the patient's body and not to exhaust yourself too much in the process – you need the 'touch' to accomplish that."

"And you really think I have it in me?"

"I'm certain, Luna," Poppy nodded. "You'll become a great healer – if you want it to be."

Luna nodded slowly. She had never imagined being something different than a researcher, a xeno biologist and xeno botanist. She only offered to train the healing arts because she wanted to help in the coming fight. Like Hermione there was no way of keeping her away, not when her friends – and Cullen – risked their lives. Knowing that she wasn't a very powerful witch – she had neither Ginny's battle temper nor Hermione's sheer power – she wouldn't be of much help with her duelling skills. Healing however would certainly be more than welcome.

_Win the fight, survive the fight_ – she wanted to make the second part certain.

"I'll think about that."

.

"You're still a disgrace, Looney," the voice sneered in her direction.

Luna had just left the Hospital Wing and was on her way back to the 'Claws' dorms when a couple of students intercepted her. They had apparently been waiting for her, hiding in the niches. It couldn't have been difficult to find her as she was used to spent a part of every afternoon with Madam Pomfrey – and officially with her friend/not-yet-boyfriend. Her schedule was predictable. Luna counted five students, two 'Claws and three Slytherins, under the leadership of Lisa Turpin and Theo Nott.

Since the last incident, there had been fewer students harassing her. Most of the neutral Slytherins left her alone for now and quite a few 'Claws started to accept her, following the lead of Padma Patil and Marietta Edgecomb. Pansy Parkinson, while not overly friendly or even polite, was in her 'wait-and-see' mode, observing the matter and trying to puzzle out the situation. She wasn't on speaking terms with either Draco or Nott right now, not willing to take a side. Because of this 'betrayal' Nott had dissed her and started to court Lisa Turpin. Today, with Cullen gone for nearly a week already, it was apparently hassle-the-Looney time again.

"Today there is no blood-traitor here to defend you," Nott sneered "and no squib to hide behind." He pointed his wand towards her but so far only threatened her.

"I wouldn't be too certain about the Squib part, Mister Nott," a calm female voice broke the stalemate. The well-known figure of Petunia Evans rounded the corner, Mrs. Norris close behind.

"What do you want?" Nott sneered. He glanced around, happy to notice that the woman was alone. "You worthless…"

"Don't finish that sentence," her confident voice whipped him into obedience. "And put your wand away: no spell casting in the corridors." Her eyes wandered over the students present, counting their numbers and houses: "Oh, and twenty points from Ravenclaw as well as thirty from Slytherin for harassing a student."

"You can't do that," Nott objected. "You have no right…"

"Oh but I do," Petunia said calmly. "as long as Mister Filch is visiting his sister, I'm his substitute, with all rights and privileges." The students hadn't liked the change one bit when Professor McGonagall announced that Argus Filch was allowed from now on to take points and order detentions – only up to twenty points and three days of detention per incident and student, but it was a start to bolster his status. He was a toothless dog no more. "And Mister Nott: one detention with Paddoc, next Friday afternoon." Petunia had been giddy to see Hogwarts at last. This day was only the icing on the cake. Not to forget her promise to Cullen to watch for his little girlfriend.

Nott paled but still tried to be 'important'. "We Slytherins have a party on Friday."

"I know," Petunia smiled thinly. "The Hufflepuffs do as well. So much to do. I'm certain Paddoc will find a tray and an apron for you to serve drinks to the Badgers."

Even the Slytherin snickered at the image, while Nott's face turned from pale to fiery red. "My father will hear about this."

"You sound like Draco," Luna interjected with her usual-dreamy voice. "Like an eleven-year-old Draco I have to admit. He grew up since then."

Luna's words were the last straw and Nott actually raised his wand to hex her. He didn't consider the woman – she was a squib, worthless and unimportant. Before he had a chance to notice what happened, something hit him in the face. It wasn't a slap like he perhaps would have expected from a girl. The boy that had been known as Dudley Dursley for more than fifteen years would have been proud to watch his mother right now. He would have recognized the 'jab' for what it was. The straight punch was very fast and accurate. It hit Nott's left eye straight on and certainly more shocked him more than that it hurt him. It certainly interrupted the spell cast though.

Nott stared at her with wide eyes, before – in a burst of stupidity – pointing his wand towards her. Not waiting for him to start hexing her, Petunia proved that her accuracy wasn't a fluke: a second jab hit his nose and broke it. Luna actually felt no urge to show off her newly-found healing knowledge. The prat deserved the pain. Instead she watched him like an interesting insect while his blood dropped to the floor.

Petunia glanced around, guessing the reactions of the other students. Lisa Turpin was clever enough to call it quits. She raised her bare hands to show that she was no part of this.

"Traitor," Nott growled, but even the other two Slytherins felt no urge to come to his defence. They didn't want to serve drinks to the badgers too.

"This is your grave, Nott," Lisa shrugged. "Continue digging if you must, but without us." Without waiting for an answer, the two 'Claws departed.

"Don't be late for your Friday duty, Mister Nott," Petunia advised "or I will make it three detentions serving drinks in the Great Hall."

Regretfully this wasn't the end of the matter but Petunia couldn't know this.

.

_**Ministry of Magic – Training Room – October 1996**_

.

"Everything alright, Cullen?" Ben asked softly.

Since their arrival he had watched the troubled young man with a bit of a worry. It was obvious how often Cullen still thought about those Dementors and about the fight. One man had died, and a woman had lost her magic thanks to Cullen. The Templar hadn't expected to meet something in the middle of the Ministry so similar to the Demons of his home. However, there had been something more, something he didn't tell the others. While he was close to the Dementors, he sensed, heard and saw memories of his past, memories of all the hideous things he had seen: families that left their magical children on the church's doorstep; blood mages tainting all humans around them; elven clans fearing their human neighbours because they had a different way of living and a different view on magic.

Most of all however he saw pictures of the fight at the Circle Tower, of Templars slain and mages possessed. He had felt so helpless back then and he had felt helpless when the Dementors surrounded them. Despite all his training: without Kingsley's Patronus holding them off long enough for him to recover, he wouldn't have been able to defend himself. Never again did he want to feel this helpless.

"It's alright," Cullen answered not very convincingly but for now Ben didn't press the matter. "And you? Everything alright, Ben?"

Ben realized Cullen was speaking about Beatrice's absence. He nodded slowly. "I miss her but she understands." He sighed. "I'm happy she's not a squib as well. I wouldn't like the idea of her risking her life during the battle too."

"You wouldn't be able to keep her back otherwise," Cullen grinned knowingly.

"No, I wouldn't," Ben agreed. "She's far too much like her daughter."

"Where is she now?"

"Living with a friend of hers in London. She accepted that she can't see me while I am here but Kingsley promised to play messenger boy between us."

"It's good to have that at least," Cullen looked sad for a moment.

"You miss her, don't you?" Ben asked, without having to utter her name.

"I do," Cullen admitted. "It's weird. I've known her for only a few months now but…"

"It feels far longer?"

Cullen nodded with a weak smile. Ben put a hand on his shoulder: "you'll see her again. And you'll have time to think about your future, a future in better times. Don't worry too much. All will be good."

Cullen sighed. "I'm not certain about that." He was thinking more about his presence in this world and not about the incoming battle. Ben understood.

"We have to believe, Cullen."

"You're right, Ben. We have to believe." While he was the teacher these weeks, he accepted and liked the idea of a father figure. It really helped.

.

_**Privet Drive 4**_

.

"Who are you? Get out of my house." His usual temperament was showing through but Vernon wasn't nearly as confident as he tried to show. He hadn't forgotten the warnings, the pleas of Harry and Petunia to leave his home. He hadn't believed them back then, had been stubborn and unwilling to listen. Vernon Dursley started regretting that decision the moment this dark robed, silver masked man appeared in his sitting room.

"Go away, you freak," Vernon slowly stepped back towards the chimney, fully intending to grab one of the pokers resting there.

His intruder's slightly amused voice stopped him. "Your dear wife isn't around?"

"N…no," Vernon shuddered. He could sense the man's disappointment. It was the Saturday after the Luna-Nott incident and on a usual weekend his wife would have been around, but not anymore. "She left me. I don't have a wife anymore. Or a son." His sadness was obvious.

"Pity," the intruder commented without any honest compassion. "Not enough of a man for her anymore?" He asked, his eyes on the wobbling mountain of fat in front of him.

Vernon's face turned puce. "It's only that freak's fault – that boy's."

"Potter?"

"Yeah, Potter, worthless piece of shit that he is," Vernon sneered, feeling more confident now with the man speaking with him, his voice telling him that he shared Vernon's opinion about the boy. "He convinced my poor Petunia to leave me." He hadn't believed for one moment her explanations as to why she left him. Why should their marriage suddenly be bad for her or Dudley? Their family life had been wonderful all these years and out of the blue it started to hurt her and his little boy?

Barely a month after her departure, the divorce papers arrived. Officially she already applied for divorce one year ago. Vernon assumed the papers had been falsified, somehow magically backdated. Mrs Petunia Dursley was now Miss Petunia Evans again. A very angry Ted Tonks had convinced him to leave sole custody of his little boy to her, leaving him with the choice of giving in or facing a trial for child abuse. Naturally he had never abused the Potter brat but there would be no fairness for him in such a trial, not with more of those freaks playing judge and jury. With a bleeding heart he had given in, his fatherly pride getting another nick as Petunia told him about Dudley's change of name.

Not only did Dudley accept Petunia's new/old last name, but he also changed his first name. Something about Dudley not being good enough for him anymore. He was Liam Evans now. What a stupid name.

While all these things were running through his mind, the intruder was still there, hanging on his own dark thoughts. He had hoped to find that blasted woman at her own home this weekend, or at least a caring husband and spoilt son. Their deaths would have sent that bitch a sign not to mess with his family. He had no chance to get her at Hogwarts, so her 'loving family' had to do.

"That bitch of a wife of yours messed with my family. She dared to attack my son. I can't allow that to happen, especially not from a worthless squib like her."

Vernon had no idea what son he was speaking about and certainly didn't know what a 'squib' was. However, he felt the mood swing to his disadvantage. This man meant business and he was dangerous, he could feel it. "She isn't my wife anymore. It's not my fault…"

"Silence," the intruder shouted. "You should have taught her better. It's the man's duty to teach his wife obedience." This at least Vernon could subscribe. "You have failed and now you have to pay."

He raised his wand. There was a red light… then… darkness.

.

With a cough Vernon came back to consciousness. For a moment he had no idea where he was or what had happened. He remembered a red light_. That freak used magic_, he realized with heartfelt fury. He tried to move but found himself bound to the chair. Looking down he noticed a weird 'something' binding him to the chair instead of shackles or ropes.

_Why has he…?_

He coughed again, this time noticing the reason: smoke, there was smoke in the air. Only now he actually heard the sounds too: some kind of crackling and hissing. And it felt hot, especially from the door where more smoke was trickling into the room.

_Fire!_ He realized with horror. _The house is burning_.

With renewed energy he fought against the bindings… to no avail. As the first flames licked under the wooden door, Vernon started to scream. He wouldn't stop until the house came crashing down ten minutes later.

The neighbours, who had called the fire brigade far too late, would never forget those sounds.

.

_**Ministry of Magic – Training Room – October 1996**_

.

"Parade!" Steel met steel as the swords clashed against each other.

"Riposte!" Marius grinned as he avoided Argus' strike with a graceful move. Argus rolled his eyes in annoyance but returned the grin after a moment. The grumpy caretaker was far more relaxed than weeks ago. At the start of the training he had been very tense, especially around Black. Despite Black sharing Argus Filch's squib status, the elderly man felt himself judged and somewhat intimidated by his mere presence. Marius was still a member of the famous/infamous Black family. He was rich; he had education and a respected name. On a more personal level he had presence, charm and manners, not to speak of being nearly as handsome as Sirius Black. In another situation he wouldn't have shared a word with Argus, the measly man of Hogwarts. However, Marius had tried hard to break through Argus Filch's shell and after a while he got some success.

It certainly helped that Argus and Marius were often paired in their sword training. Argus wasn't all too talented as a fencer. He would never win a championship. But he was surprisingly strong and – after getting rid of his arthritis – much faster and agile than expected. Most important however was his sheer determination. Argus could go on and on with his dry runs – stance dance and dummy attacks – for endless hours without breaking a sweat. He never complained, never argued against critic or an order to repeat a lesson. He simply obeyed and slowly he improved, slowly but steadily.

_My drill Sergeant-Templar would have been proud_, Cullen mused more than once. With a bit more talent Argus could be a great fencer. _Even now he would be a bad surprise for more than one pureblood_, Cullen was certain.

He left the pair of fencers behind, knowing that Marius would be able to continue the training on his own. Marius had been the only one of the trio with prior fencing training. He was certainly the most talented with a sword. With another two years of intense training he could perhaps even get the better of Cullen – perhaps. In any case, it should be enough after three months in this room.

"You wait too long between exhaling and shooting," he commented Ben's last shot. It was an '8'. Ben nodded curtly and tried again. He was by far the best shot among the three novices. Cullen was certain that Ben had the face of that young Death Eater before his eyes every time he shot a bolt at the target. Cullen still remembered the first man he had to kill, even after more than three years. It would be the same for Ben, especially with him torn between his oath as a healer and his decision to protect his daughter in a more aggressive way.

"Good, that's far better," Cullen praised as the next bolt scratched the bull's eye.

A few days ago they started with moving targets and Ben was very good at guessing how far ahead to aim with a walking or steadily running target. Now he only had to react faster with an intelligent enemy trying to dodge and move erratically. He couldn't trust those purebloods to stay dumb all the time.

"Do you think such a bolt could penetrate a magical shield?" Ben asked while he prepared his weapon for the next shot.

"I tested it once in a session with Professor Flitwick. Apparently a standard Protego isn't of much use against a crossbow bolt. It's not meant to protect against such a concentrated and high-powered physical attack but more against blows or explosions. Only very powerful wizards have Protegos strong enough to last against a bolt. Even Professor Flitwick had difficulties to erect such a shield. However, there are other more appropriate shield spells. They aren't widely known. It would be good for you to learn their motions, especially the Protego. So you'll be able to differentiate and not squander shots."

"Do you know them?"

"Yes," Cullen nodded. "I'll show you later." Despite being unable to cast a single spell, he had learned the gestures and incantations of a dozen different protection spells. He simply wanted to be prepared.

"I would like that."

"Alright, but now continue." Ben only nodded and returned to pepper his target with bolts. He had another 84 in his quiver before a break was allowed. _My fingers will never be the same_, he sighed internally as he noticed the calluses. _But Hermione is worth every one of them_.

.

_**Hogwarts – Office of Filius Flitwick**_

.

Harry was day-dreaming with closed eyes, ignoring the low rambling voices around him. He needed this moment of peace. His body ached. He felt every single muscle protest, some of them unknown to him before now. Sirius was showing a new side of his personality: drill-sergeant and torturer.

Every single day they met in the office of Professor Flitwick. The diminutive teacher had his own sparring room for duelling practice with all kind of wards and training dummies. They made good use of them. They had only learned a few new spells so far as their teachers wanted to concentrate on things like endurance, reflexes and intuitive knowledge of the battle field. He was mostly running and dodging Sirius' spells while trying to hit moving targets. Harry would have loved to accompany Cullen into that special training room but he understood that the absence of both of them would be too suspicious. He had to make his presence known at Hogwarts. This left only daily sessions at Professor Flitwick's office – much to the chagrin of one Headmaster Dumbledore.

Tomorrow they would start to integrate his sword into the fights. Unlike Ben, Marius and Argus, he wouldn't get Sirius… err, serious… weapons' drill but only train on a select few manoeuvres and attacks. Sirius wanted him to be able to hit a wand arm or a knee while dodging his enemies' attacks. He wanted him to distract his enemies by waving his sword around while he waited for an opening to put him down with a well-placed spell. Most of all he wanted Harry to train sticking his sword into his enemy where it hurt. Because of this he would train with his gladius in his left hand, not the dominant right.

"You don't have the physical strength to make severe cutting and slashing moves," Sirius had explained. "And your gladius is more created for stabbing anyway. A stab into the stomach will drain your opponent's power dramatically and a stab into the chest will end the fight."

Harry didn't even know if he would actually use the sword in the battle, but he could well use every advantage he had. Anyhow, the most difficult part would be for him to stay back in the battle and watch the others fight. He was fast improving but most of the time Sirius and Remus got the better of him in a duel. He still had much to learn.

.

"Any news from Ted?" Hermione whisper-asked Remus a dozen steps away.

So far they used the break to speak about the news they got from Professor Snape. To Harry's horror he had confirmed his dream: Voldemort intended to use Andromeda on Halloween for the creation of another Horcrux. At least he had been able to slightly lessen her emotional torture. And he found an unsuspected ally in Ophelia Nott. Her help was very welcome but still most members of their small group had troubles believing her in her honesty, especially considering her brother and nephew's behaviour.

"He's still critical but stable," Remus answered calmly. "If there is no setback, they want to transfer him from the emergency wing into a traditional sick room this weekend. Tonks is with him today. She wanted to see her father despite being unconscious still."

"I would do the same in her stead," Hermione whispered back, still feeling guilty about it.

"I know," he patted her arm. He watched her for some minutes without saying a word.

"What?" Hermione asked as she felt his eyes resting on her.

"I can't convince you…"

"To stay back in the battle?" Hermione growled. Remus smiled sadly and nodded. "No, you can't. My father will be there." She blushed a bit. "Harry will be there. I can't stay back. I have to help."

"I assumed as much. But promise me to stay with Luna. Don't follow Harry into the middle of it."

She returned his thoughtful look but shook her head after a while. "I can't promise that. I can intend to do just that but in the heat of the moment…"

"Alright, alright, I didn't really expect to get more from you," Remus sighed.

"Harry wanted you to ask me, didn't he?"

Remus shrugged. "You know him. He had to try at least."

Hermione had actually expected far more resistance from him. The one time he had beaten both Sirius and Remus in a two on two fight, Hermione had been injured by one of Sirius' hexes. Harry had gotten a tad 'agitated' and shown his real talent, the one that had been able to defend Sirius and him against dozens of Dementors years ago. His protective instinct towards her had only improved these past weeks, a development she usually liked to see very much. They hadn't really spoken about their feelings so far, deciding to delay it until after the fight. However, she was quite certain he didn't see her as his sister anymore, something that would have prompted him to lock her up and lose the key before allowing her to take part at the battle. No, he apparently started to see her as his partner, allowed and fully in her rights to be there alongside him.

It was quite contrary to how he treated Ginny and Ron. Both weren't part of this group. They didn't train; they wouldn't be there. Harry didn't invite them and Molly wouldn't have allowed it anyhow. Hermione had heard about her decision: with her being the better duellist of the couple and not willing to endanger both parents, Molly would accompany them but Arthur would stay behind. Charlie and Bill would be there too but none of the other Weasley children would. The twins, Weasley-red, had raged against her decision, told her where to stick it since they were adults now and making their own decisions. It needed some serious talk from Bill to convince them. Molly's feelings as a mother certainly were a big part of that talk as well as the need to have the twins take care of Ron and their baby-sister Ginny – not that Ginny really appreciated the idea of needing a baby-sister.

Far too soon, Sirius' voice, far too amused for their taste, got them back to reality: "break is finished, time to get on with it."

Hermione allowed Remus to pull her up, feeling like an old lady with aching joints. "He enjoys this far too much."

"He does," Remus agreed with a grin. "Come on, let's have some fun…"

And the torture continued.

.

_**Ministry of Magic – Training Room – October 1996**_

.

Fourteen weeks had passed for his pupils and him, fourteen weeks of training, fighting and meditation. Cullen was more than content with the result. They knew how to use their powers and weapons, when to attack and – perhaps most importantly – when to stand back and let the wizards do their magic. Their abilities were strong and would certainly help more than one fight during the battle, but they couldn't do it all alone. They still needed all the help they could get, be it from his friends, from the Burned Chicken Order or… from the DMLE.

It was partly this insight that caused Cullen to stop and listen when Amelia Bones waited with Kingsley Shacklebolt at the exit and gestured for him to talk to her. Luckily – for her – he had fourteen weeks to cool down as well, fourteen weeks to understand, with a little help from Marius Black who knew far more about the official stance towards Dementors than Cullen, that despite his burning hate towards those creatures, he had no right to enforce his will against all odds. He had to listen to her at the very least. And Amelia Bones hadn't changed, she still was the honourable fighter he had met this summer.

As Amelia opened her mouth, her expression telling Cullen that she felt uneasy about this, he interrupted her. "I'm sorry, Madam Bones." This she hadn't expected. "I shouldn't have reacted like that." He sighed deeply. "I still hate those… Dementors. I still think that they should be destroyed, and that they have no right to be here. But I'm a guest around here. It's not my right to demand anything."

"Thank you, Cullen," Amelia bowed her head. "And I think I understand your reaction a bit better now. I'm willing to discuss that topic at another time. We'll find a solution, I'm convinced. For now however…"

"We'll concentrate on the task at hand."

"Exactly," Amelia agreed, happy to have this solved – for now. "Your training went well?" She asked, gesturing towards the trio of squibs.

"Even better than hoped," Cullen nodded. He addressed his pupils shortly: "go visit your families. Spend a few days with them. We'll meet in three days to finish our preparations. One hour of weapon training and two hours of meditation each day; the rest belongs to your families. My greetings to Mrs Norris, Argus." Ben smiled, eager to see Beatrice again. Marius would go to… Cullen had no idea. He had to ask Sirius if Marius had any family of his own. Argus curtly nodded towards Cullen and Amelia "Ma'am" before leaving, his step far lighter than any student of Hogwarts had ever seen him take.

"What have you done to Mister Filch?" Kingsley wondered.

"Given him a purpose and treated him with respect," was the plain answer. "I expect the same courtesy from your Aurors, Madam Bones. They may be squibs but with their powers each of them is worth three of your men."

"I understand," Amelia responded calmly. She would speak with her men. A little reminder about what Cullen had been able to do so far would certainly ensure their behaviour.

"Madam Bones, Kings," Cullen bowed his head and left.

He really wanted to see Hogwarts again… and Luna.

.

_**Hogwarts**_

.

However, it wasn't Luna who waited for him at the school gate but Harry and Professor Snape. It was obvious that they still didn't like each other. They certainly wouldn't name their children after the other. They were however mostly polite to each other, trying to avoid speaking if possible and being brief and to the point ortherwise. Today they had to be together as they wanted to break the bad news to Cullen.

"He's dead, Cullen," Harry started. "My uncle Vernon is dead."

"Not the greatest loss in itself," Snape deadpanned. Harry didn't even flinch. At least he looked somewhat sad, Cullen assumed because of his aunt.

"How did he die? And more important: why?"

"We told aunt Petunia it's because of me," Harry explained. "It's better than the truth, I think."

"And the truth would be?"

"There has been an incident," Snape interjected calmly. "nothing serious, a little quarrel between students mostly."

"Stay calm," Harry made a soothing gesture towards Cullen. "Nothing happened to her."

"Luna?" Cullen narrowed his eyes. His feet wanted to run to her, but he forced them to stand still.

"Luna," Harry nodded. "Nott junior and a few of his sycophants harassed her when she left the Hospital Wing. Before something could happen, Aunt Petunia intervened."

"Apparently she handed out a detention for Mister Nott, a quite fitting one I have to admit." Snape actually smirked. He liked the idea despite the 'victim' being one of his own students. Naturally he had officially been 'furious about the impertinence'. "Mister Nott, instead of relenting, made the error of drawing his wand, first against Miss Lovegood, then against Miss Evans." He said the name like it was wrong using it towards Petunia. Perhaps he actually felt like that.

"She punched him," Harry said with a broad grin. "Luna showed me her memory. Aunt Petunia punched him in the eye and then she broke his nose." Suddenly his grin vanished as he remembered the result. He never liked his uncle but nobody deserved to die like this.

"Nott senior was furious. He visited Mister Potter's old home and met only Mister Dursley," Snape took over. "He extracted revenge in an appropriate manner – appropriate for a sick mind like his, at least. He magically bound Mister Dursley and burned the house down. The wards were down and the fire brigade wasn't fast enough to save him."

Cullen mulled over the news for the while, while Snape and Harry watched him, the former stoically, the latter traipsing from one foot to the other. Only then did he speak in a slow manner: "she deserves the truth… one day at least, not today. She did the right thing and couldn't anticipate this reaction. In the end it was Vernon's fault too. He was offered the chance to leave. He didn't listen and had to pay the price. It's harsh but in my opinion neither you, Harry, nor your aunt is to blame. However, we'll get Nott for this. And we should find a way to explain his stupid son that his childish behaviour has dour repercussions." He looked Snape straight in the eye: "Please explain to him that I won't tolerate a repeat."

Snape bowed his head. "I understand." He smirked. "And Mister Nott will understand too, I assure you."

"He better will," Cullen growled and for a moment Harry felt a hint of pity – but really only a hint.

.

_**Hogwarts – near ROR**_

.

In silence they gathered in the corridor under the watchful eye of Barnabas the Barmy, guardian of the room of requirements. The end of October was nearing, with only five days left until Halloween. Cullen had chosen this date because he wanted Harry to have a few days to recover from the ordeal – or to have a few days for changing plans should the ritual go awry. He didn't expect it to happen but as Commander Gregoire always said: "you have to be prepared for the worst."

He opened the door and one by one they entered. Harry looked concentrated and a tad frightened as he passed the door, holding hands with Hermione, their knuckles white while the girl offered Cullen a thin smile. Marius Black, Ben Granger, Argus Filch and Arabella Figg entered the room before Cullen stopped Petunia and gestured for her to wait for a moment. Luna was the only one who appeared relaxed. She practically skipped into the room, only shortly pausing to kiss Cullen on the cheek. Like the rest of them she wore some robes that Cullen had ordered from Madam Malkin, close enough in appearance to those robes lay members of the Church of Andraste wore at church. The only ones wearing something different were Harry and Cullen.

For Harry he had ordered the traditional robes of a young Templar undergoing initiation while he donned his full Templar armour today. It had been infused with the magical fluxes of the Fade while he stayed there and Cullen hoped it would help with the task at hand. Without the shadow of a doubt this ritual would be a close call. He had to use enough force to drive this foreign soul sliver away without burning out Harry's mind and soul. Mostly he hoped that Hermione's presence would be enough of an anchor to keep him grounded.

Filius and Severus had asked to be there but he had decided against it. Filius, with his unusual half-goblin nature, was a factor he had no experience how to integrate. Severus, while his knowledge about the dark sides of this world's nature could be very useful, could easily be a disturbing factor because of his tainted aura. In addition, Cullen feared that the ritual would seriously hurt him. He had been honest when he told Severus that he couldn't help him, couldn't cleanse him from his darkness. This didn't mean the ritual's energies wouldn't try to do exactly this – and perhaps kill him in the process.

No, he would stick to these nine people counting himself and start the ritual.

_Andraste be with us._

.

"Petunia…"

"What?" Petunia narrowed her eyes. She was shrewd enough to guess what this was about.

"I would understand if you wanted to let this pass."

Petunia raised a single eyebrow and offered Cullen a humourless grin. "You fear that I blame Harry for Vernon's death and that it could influence my aura." While she still didn't fully believe all this 'aura crap' and certainly couldn't feel it for herself, she had listened to Cullen often enough to take an educated guess about the nature of his doubts.

Cullen sighed and nodded slowly. As he started to explain, Petunia waved him to wait. "We both know that it wasn't Harry's fault." Noticing Cullen's surprise Petunia continued: "I'm neither dumb nor weak, Cullen."

"I never said otherwise," he scowled.

"But you behaved accordingly," Petunia responded harshly. "The temporal connection to the incident about that Nott boy wasn't a coincidence, I assume."

Cullen hesitated for a moment before he slowly nodded.

"I guessed as much." Now it was Petunia's turn to sigh deeply. "I won't pretend that it doesn't hurt. Vernon has been my husband for more than fifteen years. Despite him not being the best husband, and our divorce, there was a time we loved each other. I'll miss him. I'll certainly grief about the loss when my heart really accepts his death. And I could use a patient ear when all of this is said and done. But I don't blame Harry for this mess." Her eyes hardened. "That Nott boy however…"

Cullen smiled thinly. "He'll stay clear of you for a while. Severus made sure of that."

"Good," Petunia growled. "Then let's start."

.

"Relax, Harry," Hermione whispered into his ear.

Her back was resting against a hip-high log, transformed by her into something akin to a seating surface and a backrest, allowing her to sit comfortably for a long time with wide-spread legs. Harry was sitting in front of her, leaning against her chest and for now feeling like a coiled spring. The ritual itself was serious enough. Feeling Hermione's "chest" against his back and her arms around him, as well as having Aunt Petunia and her father watching them closely, did nothing to make him comfortable.

"He won't hurt you," Hermione whispered. "It's not like we have some sex ritual ahead of us with us dancing wildly in our birthday suits." Luckily neither saw the other's face as both turned brightly red at the image. "Really, Harry, it's okay. I'm here as your friend and Dad understands it. I'm here to support you not to cause you to tense up even more. Everything will be alright." She was now speaking more about the ritual than the closeness. Hermione felt tense herself but did her best to trust Cullen and his preparations. She had spoken to him about her part in this ritual before.

"_I want you to be there as his friend. He trusts you as you trust him. This connection will anchor him, ground him and give him something to hold on when our circle draws upon that soul sliver. I want you to concentrate on positive memories and images. Remus told me about those Patronus lessons you had. This will be similar. _

_Remember the moment you met Harry for the first time. Remember the days you started to become friends. Remember every good moment you two spent together in happiness – and then sent him those pictures, those feelings. He will receive them, feel them as well, and it will help him more than anything else. _

_Harry needs to remember the good things, the reasons to stay, while the darkness in his scar will try to fight us. It's not only dark but semi-sentient too. It won't go freely or willingly. Try to forget your own doubts. Be confident. Be supportive. Be loving."_

"Relax, Harry," she whispered again. "I'll be there for you." _Be loving. I can do that_.

.

Luna was sitting on a footstool besides the statue of Mother Rosalia. The whole room had the same appearance as weeks ago with the mighty statue of Andraste domineering it and Rosalia as a comforting presence on the sidelines. The footstool was a very simple one and tended to wobble every time Luna moved, but she smiled broadly. From all persons present she was the only one without any open signs of tensions.

"You'll help them, won't you?" She asked Rosalia and Luna was certain to get a small wink in return. She felt good, happy emotions flooding her heart. From all people around she sensed caring feelings, interweaving to a supporting blanket. With every ritual done in this room, the positive energies had grown in intensity. Cullen had explained her that they thinned the barrier to the Fade with their actions; that this would draw all kind of ghosts towards them while their intentions would drive away the demons that were hurt by this kind of emotions.

Friendship. Caring. Love. Demons didn't like those emotions. Sometimes Luna was certain to see 'something' or better 'someone' watching them. Once she even waved towards the spectators, as the feeling got especially intense.

In a few hours Harry would be free of the scar's influence. He would be happier then, ready to face his future – a future Hermione would hopefully be playing a big part in just like she intended to play a big part in the life of one Cullen Stanton Rutherford.

"Let's start, Cullen. It's time."

Her happy, confident voice did wonderful things to the mood in the chamber previously brimming with tension. One by one, the other inhabitants nodded towards her, most of them offering smaller or bigger smiles, before they took their seats.

_Yes, it was time._

.

_**Very close by**_

.

"What do you think of her?" The Lady asked, her eyes resting proudly on the blonde girl. She had watched her since she entered her home five years ago, concerned at the beginning, and happy as she found friends at last. She smiled more these days and reminded the Lady of the girl's mother more and more. The girl had been one of the many cases where Headmaster Dumbledore had utterly failed in his duty. She had been one of the reasons she had prompted Matron Mathilda to welcome the traveller as her new steward. The lady had been silent to the grievances around her far too long. This was going to change and she knew the person she wanted to accomplish this task was in this room; not knowing the destiny that awaited her.

"She's perfect," the Mother answered. "You've chosen well."

"His work is nearly done," the Lady stated calmly. "Your part of the arrangement is almost finished."

"His part in your world was the faster one by far."

"That it was," the Lady agreed. "It was nonetheless important. Without him the boy wouldn't have survived the battle. He would have sacrificed himself to carry out his duty. His death would have broken the girl's heart and those of many others."

"It would have hurt your world immensely to lose these two," the Mother said calmly, her eyes resting now on the couple in the middle.

"Yes, it would," the Lady responded with conviction. "We need his courage and her stubbornness, their knowledge of both worlds and their concern for all beings, to change the world as it should have happened the last two times. We'll need them supporting each other in dark times, when they'll meet resistance of all kind, unwillingness to change and harsh words from all sides. We need both of them at their best because sometimes one plus one gets you three."

"Your society missed the chances for a change fifty and fifteen years ago," the Mother said with a deep scowl.

"I don't intend to allow them to miss their third chance as well," the Lady calmly stated.

"And you won't need my man anymore after the battle?" The Mother wanted to know for certain.

"No," the Lady shook her head. "he was important to start things up, to get the ball rolling. He planted the seed," she gestured towards the person she had in mind for replacing Cullen after his departure. "he'll be completely yours again," she smiled "As will be she."

"I'm grateful for this," the Mother bowed.

The Lady's expression saddened. "Will she be happy? I've seen her unhappy for far too long. She deserves love and joy."

"I will take care of her," the Mother assured her. "I won't lie: the coming years will be long and hard, full of turmoil and strife. Not everybody will be happy, but they'll find new friends and allies at the most unusual places and times. I promise that she'll be happy, Milady."

"I'll hold you to you word."

.

_**A/N**_

_Two chapters to go and perhaps an epilogue._

_The last part is perhaps a tad confusing. It's only important as an explanation for Cullen's presence and as a little spoiler for a possible sequel. You'll see more of Mother and Lady in chapter 12._


	12. Chapter 12 Curing the Curse

_**A/N**_

_Rape scene and vigilantism in the second half of this chapter, be warned._

**.**

**Curing the Curse**

.

_**Room of Requirement (T-120)**_

.

Everybody had taken their position and was trying to calm down for the ritual to start. A dozen braziers gave light to the room in a soothing manner. Cullen had apparently added some herbs as a sweet but not too intrusive smell permeated the air. It was warm enough to feel comfortable in the thin robes but not so hot as to be uncomfortable. The stone floor was slightly warm to the touch and Hermione wondered if someone had told Cullen about the Muggle invention of under-floor heating. She was able to see the tall statue of Andraste over Harry's shoulder, while he sat there, resting against her chest. If she turned a bit to the side, she was able to watch Luna happily chatting with the smaller statue of Mother Rosalia like a good old friend. It was a weird sight but somehow very comforting.

Ben Granger exchanged a glance with her, sending her a supportive nod and smile, while giving her a "we'll speak about this later" look. He liked Harry and certainly wanted to help him. However, he was still her father and his protective streak hadn't diminished one bit. It was his duty to give him the "if you hurt my daughter…" talk, wasn't it?

_What are we waiting for?_ Hermione just wondered as a low 'plop' announced the arrival of a late guest.

"Matron Mathilda?" Cullen asked, his voice telling Hermione that he had somehow expected to see her today.

"Steward Cullen," the elderly house-elf bowed awkwardly, not because of her advanced age but due to the unwieldy object she was carrying in her small hands.

"That's my sword," Harry announced as he realized what Mathilda had brought with her. He was certain he had stored it away in his trunk after the last training session with Sirius.

"It is," Mathilda simply agreed. Without further explanation she turned towards Luna. She crossed the short distance and offered her the weapon.

"What…"

"The nice Lady said you'll need it," Mathilda answered assuringly, as if it were an evidence.

"The nice Lady?" Harry asked. Hermione heard the confusion in his voice.

"Thank you, Mathilda," Luna accepted the sword. Holding it with her left arm, she bent forward and gave Mathilda a one-armed hug, which the Matron patiently endured.

"I think I understand, Harry," Cullen said calmly while watching his girlfriend. Luna had approached the statue of Mother Rosalia and positioned the sword in her hands while humming something unidentifiable. Cullen watched his girlfriend with a soft smile, a faraway look in his eyes. Only now did Hermione and the others notice that the statue had changed her stance somewhat since their last visit. Her hands were outstretched today as if she actually wanted the goblin crafted Gladius to rest there. "I'll explain later."

With a small wave the tiny house elf vanished again, while Luna simply smiled: "she'll be with us, Cullen. You didn't doubt it, did you?" She shortly waved to something invisible before sitting down again, her hands folded together, her feet tapping and that humming song on her lips once again.

"No," Cullen shook his head, reciprocating her smile. "She always will."

.

"_You're awake."_

_Hermione opened her eyes only to see Ron and Harry sitting at her sides, the white ceiling of the hospital wing above her. Ron had some chocolate on his robes. Apparently he had found the side table with the 'get better' gifts and helped himself to some of them. His smile was broad and unconcerned, as if he never doubted she would wake up. Harry on the other hand was unable to hide his immense relief and it made her heart beat faster. It didn't help her composure that he held her hand, his thumb drawing small circles on her skin._

"_You're back," he smiled softly. "I… I mean, we… we missed you."_

_Shortly she remembered a sentence she had been reading once: "I was wondering if you would miss me and I was selfish enough to hope it." _

_He had missed her._

.

Hermione remembered the moment she first woke in her second year after weeks of being petrified. She had felt so alone lying there, unable to move, feel or hear, to do anything aside from think, and being concerned about him. And then she opened her eyes and he was there.

For a moment she strengthened her grip around him and sent him her happiness.

Around the couple, Cullen's circle was singing something. It sounded like an old English gospel, one Hermione had never heard before. It sent calming waves through the chamber, lifted her heart to the sky and erased all doubts and fears. Somehow she had the impression that they weren't alone in this; that someone was watching over them.

"She'll be with us," Luna had said. Perhaps she had been right. _If only I had an idea whom she was talking about._

.

_It doesn't work_, Hermione's mind raced and her heart pumped.

_It doesn't work_, she thought with desperation.

_Why doesn't it work?_ She wondered while tears shot into her eyes.

For more than three hours they had been at work now. Three hours of singing, praying and recalling memories from the past. More and more the beneficial emotions had infused the air. More and more the positive waves of magic had done their work. Sometime after the first hour, Harry's Gladius had started to glow and the statue of Mother Rosalia had started to smile.

Hermione, her arms sweaty but still around Harry's chest, felt the changing flows in him. It was like an electrical stream, like the particles in a lodestone, dispersing towards the two poles of his aura. The darkness had mostly left his body, mind and soul. It was extremely concentrated now in one point of his aura. Hermione felt the urge to pull a knife and simply cut it out like an ulcer. However, the more they tried to get rid of it, the more the darkness dragged its feet against it, clawed into the aura and increased its resistance.

Sweat was running freely down Harry's skin. He felt incredible hot to the touch now, like he was running a life-threatening fever. Hermione didn't dare look towards her father or Cullen. She felt her father's concern about Harry's condition. Ben realized how dangerous the moment was even without Hermione's knowledge about her friend's racing heart. She could feel it, each heartbeat, one following the next like he was running a quarter-mile a minute. A few more minutes of this and he would certainly faint. He already would have without her support and his own stubbornness.

Something had to happen and fast.

.

And something happened. Only she hadn't expected it.

"_Shadows fall_

_And hope has fled._

_Steel your heart_

_The dawn will come._

"_The night is long_

_And the path is dark._

_Look to the sky_

_For one day soon_

_The dawn will come."_

As soon as the first strophe faded away, the mood in the chamber changed again, as did Harry's condition. Feeling stunned and completely overwhelmed, not daring to drag her eyes away from Harry's face, Hermione needed long moments to understand who was singing in such an unearthly way:

"Luna," Cullen whispered, his voice telling Hermione that Hogwarts' steward felt it too: This wasn't only Luna singing. It wasn't just her voice and it sounded more like a background choir.

"_The shepherd's lost_

_And his home is far._

_Keep to the stars_

_The dawn will come._

"_The night is long_

_And the path is dark._

_Look to the sky_

_For one day soon_

_The dawn will come."_

Someone… something was screaming in pain. Harry started to tremble, his teeth chattered.

"I'm here, Harry," Hermione mumbled. "You're not alone."

The braziers shortly flickered before they flared up, their light intensifying immensely, filling the chamber with pure daylight. Harry opened his mouth, moaned in pain, the moan turning into a scream of agony. Hermione didn't notice the tears streaming down her face. She felt the change however. The darkness in Harry's aura made its last stand. It dug its claws even deeper into his soul, trying to keep tight while the light around it fought to banish it.

"_Bare your blade_

_And raise it high._

_Stand your ground_

_The dawn will come._

"_The night is long_

_And the path is dark._

_Look to the sky_

_For one day soon_

_The dawn will come."_

Harry's hands were tightly surrounding Hermione's now, trying to stay close to her and keep his convulsions under control. Still sending her positive emotions and memories towards him, Hermione had the feeling that this wasn't enough anymore. Unable to reach his face, she did the next best thing. Leaning forward, she put her mouth on the spot of bare skin on his neck. Kissing him, she poured all her care into this gesture, all her friendship and love.

For a moment he completely tensed up. Not a single move was made, not a single breath and Hermione wasn't certain if she felt his heartbeat anymore. Then, from one moment to the next, he relaxed again. It was like someone had cut his strings. He slumped down and Hermione heard a sigh of immense relief. There was an anticlimactic 'plop' and Hermione only felt something drifting away before it vanished into thin air. No green noxious cloud, no apparition of a screaming skull, or anything like this – it simply vanished.

Nobody dared to move. Everybody was staring at Harry and Hermione, not daring to act, to believe it was finally done. This endless moment only ended when Luna suddenly lost all composure and crumpled to the ground.

Cullen's eyes darted back and forth between Harry and Luna.

"Go to her, Cullen," Hermione ordered with a hoarse voice she barely recognized herself. "I have him."

Relief washed over his face as he nodded, turned around and hurried to Luna. Bending down on one knee, he gently grabbed her shoulders and pulled her against his chest. "Luna?" he whispered.

.

"Is it done?" Petunia asked after a long moment.

Ben Granger had hurried at Harry's side and was examining him. Marius, Arabella and Argus were still sitting in their old positions, uncertain that the job was done, wondering if they were still needed.

"Yes, it is," Hermione answered softly. She was certain of it. She could feel it, the change in Harry's aura. There was no darkness anymore. She felt incredible exhausted now, like something had sucked all her emotional energy away.

_How must Harry feel right now?_

He still hadn't moved since he relaxed. His head was resting against Hermione's shoulders, his eyes were closed and his lips were smiling. It seemed like he was having a happy dream.

"His heartbeat is still a bit high as is his blood pressure," Ben Granger stated. "But it apparently started to normalize again." He threw his daughter a long, thoughtful look before his face melted into a soft smile. "You did well today, 'Mione. I'm proud of you."

.

They had gathered around Cullen and Luna.

Following Hermione's silent wish, the room had supplied two broad and very cosy divans, one occupied by Luna, the other by Harry who was still sleeping against Hermione's chest. Ben had a watchful eye on the couple and mostly on Harry's hands. If they started to move in an inappropriate manner, he would intercept. Arabella was sitting on a chair, dozing with a low snore. Argus stood at Petunia's side, rubbing his hands nervously. His face was glowing with pride since Hermione told them about the ritual's success. He had been part of something really important. Petunia watched Harry and Luna with concern, especially as nobody was able to explain Luna's weird behaviour and sudden unconsciousness. Marius tried to distract her with playful banter but was unsuccessful so far.

_She looks peaceful_, Hermione noticed in wonder. _She's absolutely transcendental_.

Luna's skin was even whiter than usual, shimmering in the light of the still gleaming sword. Like Harry she had this 'I have a wonderful dream' expression and Hermione would have loved to be able see into her mind right now.

"She will be alright, Cullen. Let her rest for a while."

Cullen nodded and smiled down to the blonde girl sleeping on the divan. His mind needed some time to process the fact neither Hermione, Petunia nor Arabella had said those words. Slowly he looked up and turned around until his eyes came to rest on the statue behind them all. Mother Rosalia was smiling again, her stance changed anew as if she was offering the sword. With weak knees Cullen left his place at Luna's side, walked towards her and hesitantly reached out to accept the weapon.

"He will need the weapon, Cullen."

The Templar looked down and stared at the sword. It slowly lost its gleam but he could still feel it: the ritual had induced a blessing on the weapon; it was similar to those he had watched a few times on weapons of higher-ranking Templars, meant to aid them in their battles against demons.

"The Power he knows not," Cullen whispered. Mother Rosalia only smiled knowingly. _A goblin-crafted weapon imbued with the blessing of a circle of squibs_, Hermione pondered with a mischievous streak. _Voldy would hate this_.

"Your duty to me is nearly done, Cullen Stanton Rutherford of Honnleath." Hermione felt her knees buckle and was relieved to be sitting right now as another apparition came to the chamber. This one seemed like a ghost, not unlike the Grey Lady but different. She seemed older and younger at the same time, a mesh of several characters, with feminine but also masculine traits.

"Soon it will be time for another one to take care of my castle." Her eyes shortly turned to another person in the chamber. The target of her attention blanched while the others looked thoughtful.

"It makes sense," was Hermione's only comment.

"It does, doesn't it?" The apparition smiled. She gestured towards the sleeping girl. "Take care of her. She has always been one of my favourites like her mother and grandmother before her."

"I will, Lady Hogwarts," Cullen accepted the duty without complaint, his words showing that he recognized her.

"Cullen," the statue called his attention again, her voice rich with concern and compassion. "You will have to think carefully once your work here is said and done. Speak with her, explain our world to her. I will welcome the both of you should you want to return. My children need you so much right now. But your life won't be easy. Her life won't be easy even with you at her side. I hope you'll return. I hope you'll bring her to my temple. But I'll leave this decision to the both of you."

The statue froze again, the shimmering light leaving her eyes. Now she appeared to be nothing else than a normal statue but nobody was able to deny that they had been witness to something extraordinary.

_My children need you so much right now. I'll leave the decision to you. Yeah, no pressure._

.

_**Voldemort's Lair (T-96)**_

.

The broad-shouldered and heavily muscled frame of one Marcus Flint was blocking the entrance to the ugly prison cell. Naturally, he kept his mouth shut. It wasn't his right to speak without special dispense, not in the presence of his Dark Lord. He was only here because tonight it was his duty to watch the little prison that was part of his master's lair. Rowle was the sole senior Death Eater among the warden crew. Aside from him only trainees had been ordered to take turns at watching the handful of prisoners.

It was nothing like he had imagined his life to be. As a teenager he always had aspirations of grandeur. How often had he dreamt about adventures, big fights and chances to prove his worth? The Dark Lord would realize his talent, his loyalty and his courage. He would foster him, promote him and soon call him into his inner circle. Within a few years he would surpass his father's wildest dreams, he had been so sure of it.

But none of that had happened so far. A few instances of Muggle-hunting, a single Muggleborn or Blood-traitor thrown into the mix; there hadn't been fights to speak about, no chances to prove his worth. He had been sick after being forced to kill that twelve-year-old Muggle boy. He had done nothing wrong, aside from being born into the wrong family, and being at the wrong place at the wrong time. Was this his future? Was there nothing else, nothing aside from killing the helpless and guarding prisoners?

Andromeda Tonks was without a doubt the most important prisoner of them all. Rowle had urged him more than once to be especially careful with her. She had to be kept under close watch. She had to stay here at all costs and she had to stay alive – alive, nothing more. Marcus hadn't liked the glint in Rowle's eyes. And now he was watching his master as he examined this woman. He wasn't a happy master right now.

.

"The nightmare potion isn't working as expected," Voldemort growled. Like could be expected Ophelia Nott trembled slightly despite it not being her fault – at least not officially. Luckily he had no idea of her little meddling. "She always gets the potion as prescribed?"

"Yes, milord," Ophelia bowed. "Three times a day in the prescribed amount."

"Then why isn't it working?" He narrowed his eyes and watched her closely. She wasn't lying about the nightmare potion, he was certain about that. Nonetheless, Andromeda Tonks had stopped screaming days ago. She was only mumbling senseless words from time to time, swaying back and forth on her seat and not reacting to his presence in any way.

"I assume what happened to Alice Longbottom is at play here," Ophelia Nott answered the angry question. "The pain was too much to bear so her mind cracked. It's a well-known symptom among healers. The mind shuts down. It separates from the body. It erects barriers between the part that is feeling and the part that is processing."

"And the result?"

"It's like she is watching pictures, as if another person endures the pain. Her mind doesn't accept it as its own pain anymore."

"Can we alter this?"

"Not in time, milord. If we discontinue the potion, she should open again after a while. But that would needs several days, perhaps even weeks." It would be too late with the ritual only four days ahead.

Voldemort growled again, he was clearly unhappy about the news. To Ophelia's relief it didn't prompt him to shoot the messenger. "Discontinue the potion. Make her ready for the ritual." Without waiting for her response, Voldemort turned around and left, Marcus Flint hurrying to get out of his way.

Ophelia glanced towards the poor woman. Snape's potion had helped. It certainly dampened the impact of that hellish nightmare potion. Discontinuing it would put her on track back to sanity – or so Snape and she were hoping, at least. According to its nature and origin, the nightmare potion wasn't exactly thoroughly researched; neither its effects nor long-term ramifications were known. They could only wait and hope for the best.

"I want to be informed of any change regarding her behaviour and condition," she commanded coldly and Marcus Flint hastily nodded. Ophelia Nott belonged to the incredible short list of followers that treated him like an adult and borderline friendly. He actual like her and had a little crush on her. She knew of it, he assumed, but hadn't taken advantage of that fact so far. "Protect her," she added after a moment, allowing her concern to shimmer through.

"I will." He bowed again, happy to oblige. At least for the next days she would be secure. After that everything was undecided.

.

_**Malfoy Manor (T-72)**_

.

"You always liked her more than us." Goyle tried to say it like a joke but his voice stated the contrary and his eyes were too serious to believe it. He was speaking of Narcissa Malfoy née Black and Severus' close friendship with her.

Severus Snape shrugged and poured his old friend some vintage Kentucky whiskey, which he was found of despite it being a Muggle drink. "She was always nicer by far, had better manners and… sorry to spoil your mood, old friend… she's looking ten times better than you do."

Goyle forced a grin while Travers and Gibbon really seemed to be amused by the banter. With Narcissa's allowance under his belt, he had invited the three 'comrades' to Malfoy Manor for a bit of quality time. They were tense and still didn't completely trust him. Goyle certainly had neither forgiven nor forgotten his betrayal as he saw the manner Severus handled the whole Malfoy family matter. In his simple mind he should have found a way to bring Narcissa and Draco back into the fold, irrespective of the repercussions to their well-being.

"You aren't hitting on her?" Goyle frowned, narrowing his eyes and his wand hand twitching.

Snape showed his best smirk. "I'm hardly her type." He didn't actually answer the question and at least Travers noticed it. He had always been the most cunning of the trio. However, Snape was right. Despite all her virtues and flaws, Narcissa was a spoilt princess at heart. She needed money, a special 'je ne sais quoi' and the whole pureblood lady life-style. Severus could never offer her such things, not to speak about the things she expected from her husband: appearance, manner and charm.

Yes, Lucius Malfoy had charm – when he wanted to show it. He had a unique ability to make you believe that you were important, that you had a place in the grand scheme of things and a role to play that would influence the future. It had been these charms that draw a teenage Severus towards him, created a friendship that lasted until this summer, perhaps even now. He wasn't always of the same opinion and he had ultimately taken the opposite side in this war, but he would never forget the blonde prefect that had pushed open a door to a new world for a young unsocial Firsty.

On the other hand this manoeuvre, inviting the trio of Death Eaters into this manor, was an open declaration of intent. It told them that he was prepared to step in and take over what Lucius Malfoy had left behind. Right now his place in the Inner Circle wasn't secured, but the trio acknowledged that his return like a phoenix from the ashes was something that could actually happen. They had to be prepared: to take sides, to support him. In any case it would have been stupid to antagonize him in case he succeeded with his shenanigans. If he really killed Dumbledore, all former trespasses would be forgotten. They expected him to beg for Narcissa's life – and hand – as soon as he accomplished the task. Travers wouldn't be surprised to get an invitation to a Malfoy-Snape Christmas party next year.

After a bit more of uneasy banter, Snape lifted his glass. "Let us clink our glasses. To the future. That our plans may succeed. That this war may soon be over."

"To the future," the others followed his example.

One by one they gulped down their drinks. None of them detected the small addition they got into their drinks. While the Dark Lord would certainly notice the influence of an Imperio spell and there was always the chance of other heavy influence spells and potions being detected, Snape hoped that this low-powered compulsion potion would go unnoticed. It wouldn't allow him to force his comrades into something completely alien to their nature. They wouldn't commit suicide or betray their master. However, he had something different in mind, something he had only to ascertain to happen.

"I think it would be a good idea to meet again in three days' time, right before the Halloween celebration. We could arrive together at the ceremony," Snape suggested calmly.

"A show of cohesion," Travers already liked the idea.

"Indeed," Snape nodded curtly.

"Yeah, a good idea," Goyle agreed.

"I'll be there too," Gibbon promised.

Step one of plan 'how to arrive at the unknown lair' was accomplished, Snape observed silently. The potion would make certain that they didn't change their plans. Three Death Eaters ready for transport. More would have been better but also more dangerous. Three had been the number they agreed upon.

_Your taxi is waiting, Steward Cullen._

.

_**Voldemort's Lair (T-48)**_

.

He hated this job.

He had no wish to see the prisoners again, to hear their screams. Their hopeless eyes were haunting him in his dreams. His father would call him a weakling. His mother would call him a disgrace to the family. Ophelia would do neither. For a short moment his eyes became dreamy and a smile played around his lips. She was more than ten years his senior. She was in a completely different league, both socially and… everything.

She floated where he stomped. She sipped where he slurped. She had grace and manners where he behaved like a cowherd. She was beautiful, had intellect and wit while he…

_Oh, Merlin, I got it bad_, Marcus Flint realized. _I can never show her. I would become a complete laughingstock_.

With a sad sigh he pushed the thoughts away, tried to obliterate the picture of her in his mind and walked on. He hated his job. He hated being here. But he had promised to watch over Andromeda Tonks, promised it to _her_. It was the least he could do: stand true to his word. His shift would only begin in another four hours, but he visited her from time to time between his shifts. Her condition had dramatically improved over the last two days, he had noticed. Since the Dark Lord discontinued her potion, she got better with every visit. In a way he pitied her because of that. If the improvement continued like this, she would completely be in her right mind when the time came to sacrifice her.

Andromeda Tonks had only two more days to live, everybody knew it. Most liked the idea, hated her for being a blood traitor, and assumed that she more than deserved it. He however, felt none of that. Perhaps he had spent too much time around her. Perhaps it was because he knew from his time in the Slytherin Quidditch team that at least mother and son of the Malfoy family still loved her and would certainly mourn her death, especially such a gruesome one. Marcus sighed. It was time to be honest. Most of all he hated the idea of the woman being sacrificed because it troubled Ophelia.

Sometimes he didn't just hate his job, but his current life.

.

"She won't betray us. She can't really tell anybody."

Marcus Flint stopped as he heard the ugly laugh. He knew that voice. It belonged to Thorfinn Rowle. As a senior Death Eater the man could have avoided getting allocated to this duty. However, he had a reason to follow this 'call', a reason that vegetated in cell five as every prison guard knew. Mel Polkins was a Canadian Muggleborn. After finishing her education at some school in Toronto, she decided to life in the home country of her father for a while. As a Muggle, he had no idea about the dangers in doing that. With no premonition she arrived at Britain only to get Rowle's unhealthy attention within her first month of work at a small apothecary.

For a while he stalked her. Some said he even courted her despite her blood status. Marcus didn't believe it. However what he believed was the story about how he lost his temper after being rejected. He abducted her and held her prisoner. The Dark Lord allowed it to happen as long as he did his job well. Nearly every day he visited the poor girl, barely an adult. He had tortured her in the beginning, careful not to blemish her pure skin. Marcus remembered her screams all too well. Her face belonged to those that harassed his dreams.

After a while the screams stopped, and her eyes lost every light. They dulled to that lifelessness he had seen before in others. With her youthful vitality gone, Rowle started to lose interest in her. It was only a question of time until he killed her – or until he offered her to one of the younger Death Eaters for a bit of "Pomp and Circumstance". Apparently today was the day to pass the reins.

"I don't want to get into any trouble." A younger voice reciprocated. It belonged to Siggy – actually Sigurd Rowle, Thorfinn's nephew. He was a worthless, spineless and sycophantic piece of shit, a bully, happy to torture but frightened like a hare if someone showed a backbone. As bad a wizard as Marcus was – like him Siggy had to repeat one year at Hogwarts and his NEWTs were even worse, which was quite an achievement – he didn't even have Marcus' muscled frame to intimidate others. Because of this he had started to visit Muggle Orphanages to indulge in his perverted cravings. Without his uncle's protection a few of his comrades would already have shown their displeasure several times in the past. Even for Death Eaters there were limits – at least for most of them.

_However, their voices didn't come from cell five_, Marcus noticed, suddenly feeling very ill. He hastened down the corridor. Four, three, two… the voices came from Cell one.

_Andromeda Tonks was in cell one. _

"The Dark Lord…"

"The Dark Lord lost all interest in her," Thorfinn Rowle growled darkly. "He needs her alive in two days, nothing less but also nothing more. I'm not certain she'll even notice. Her mind isn't actually at its clearest these days." His rumbling laughter made Marcus even sicker.

"Miss Nott…"

"Miss Nott has nothing to say about the matter," Rowle interrupted his nephew again. "She is a woman, not even one of us and she should really learn her place and shut up before someone decides to teach her manners." He snickered, apparently imagining those 'lessons' with him as her drill instructor. Marcus knew of Rowle's preference for the Caedo Disciplinae spell, a spell usually used to discipline children in pureblood families, a somewhat weaker variety of the Crucio without the long-term mental repercussions. He had used the spell quite freely on Miss Polkins in the beginning. "Enough of this nonsense. Stand watch while I taste her goods." Again this sick laughter, Marcus noticed with a slight tremble.

_I have to stop them_. He nearly rushed in. However, two facts stopped him from doing that. First, he wasn't the brightest, but he was able to assess his own abilities quite well. He knew that he alone didn't stand a chance against both Rowles. His Slytherin trait of self-preservation told him not to jump into action like a Gryffindor. The second reason not to do so was the opportunity to get favour with the woman he adored. If he warned Ophelia about what was going on, she would be thankful, wouldn't she?

"Hello, you filthy bitch," he heard from the cell. "Aren't you a poor little girl, so alone and all? Uncle Rowle will keep you a bit of company."

Marcus whirled around and run.

.

*knock* *knock* *knock*

"Open, open, do hurry up," Marcus Flint whispered furiously. At last the door opened and his jaw slacked. Apparently Ophelia Nott had been sleeping. She wore her nightdress and a, only partially closed, dressing gown. She looked fabulous with her hair down and without any makeup.

"What?" She snarled.

Marcus Flint was regretfully unable to answer. He could only stare, his eyes certainly not on her face.

"My eyes are up her, you pig." Ophelia snarled; her voice was sharp enough to whip him back into a modicum of self-control.

"Sorry, Ma'am, I didn't want to stare," he apologized feebly.

"I'm not interested in your apologies," she huffed indignantly. "What do you want?"

He paled, suddenly remembering the reason of his visit, of his hurry. "Madam Tonks…"

"What about her?" Ophelia Nott asked, feeling a fist clenching her heart. Despite her anger she knew that Flint was a nice boy all in all. Unlike her he had no choice whether to take the mark or not. He wasn't really Death Eater material. His expression augured ill.

"Thorfinn Rowle… he's with her right now."

.

"You're completely worthless, nephew," they heard Thorfinn's voice as they entered the prison's corridor. Ophelia had barely taken the time to transfigure her dressing gown and slippers into a robe and shoes, before she rushed ahead, her wand blazing. Marcus hurried to follow her, anxious to protect her should a fight erupt – something he absolutely expected to happen.

"No, not Silencio, you idiot," Thorfinn scolded him. "A gagging spell is more fun. You want to have her screaming without hurting your ears. Silence is boring."

They heard clothes ripping as they rushed towards the door as well as suppressed female screams. Marcus felt vomit rising in his chest as he saw the scene in front of him. Andromeda Tonks' wrists and ankles were bound to the table, her dress ripped open. Thorfinn Rowle had doffed his robes and dropped his pants which were now flapping around his knees. His nephew was watching the show with wide, eager eyes. Now he turned around as he heard the arrivals. His hand started to lift his wand but before he had a chance to act, Marcus made good use of his well-developed muscles.

With a single heave of his broad shoulders, he smashed his ham-like fist into Sigurd Rowle's face, instantly breaking his jaw. The man stumbled back, while Marcus following him step by step. A punch into the stomach followed. Siggy would have vomited onto Marcus' shoes, only his broken jaw didn't allow that to happen. With a hateful snarl Marcus lifted Siggy's head with his left and punched him again in the face with his right fist. This time he broke his nose and left cheekbone. With a sickening crunch Siggy's head was smashed against the stone wall. With a low moan he went down and hit the floor face-on.

Had Marcus been able to watch what happened in the rest of the room, perhaps he would have acted. Perhaps he would have tried to stop Ophelia if only because of manly sympathy. However, he was too occupied with Siggy and nothing stopped Ophelia from doing what she wanted.

Realizing her arrival, Thorfinn Rowle turned around. He opened his mouth to say something. _In a second he would start to yell at her_, Ophelia just knew it. _He would begin to insult her, perhaps offer her to take Andy's place or say something equally macho-dumb-like_. She had neither patience nor time for such a shit. She already had nearly taken Andy's place once before if not for her brother's success in abducting the woman. Ophelia noticed how Rowle fumbled to raise his wand and to lift his pants at the same time, time she didn't intend to allow him to take. Barely able to restrict herself from simply killing him – something the Dark Lord wouldn't tolerate as only he was allowed to kill inner circle members – she decided to do the next best thing. She took his wands away, both of them.

Being a woman and without the dark mark often prompted the others to underestimate and belittle her. Today it worked to her advantage. Rowle simply misjudged the danger she presented. Ophelia's first spell was a focussed Lancea through Rowle's lower arm. It wouldn't do permanent damage, wouldn't keep him from doing his job after getting patched up. But it hurt like hell and took him out of the fight. The arm instantly lost all strength and his grip around the wand loosened. The piece of wood clattered on the stone floor. The second spell was far more vicious. A cutting curse towards his groin ended all of Rowle's dreams about female company forever.

"Ah, you bitch," he groaned, clutching the wound with his left hand, his right flaccidly hanging down.

Andromeda watched the scenery in panic and confusion. Marcus gulped and Rowle stared, as Ophelia pointed her wand towards the piece of flesh on the ground that formerly belonged to Rowle.

"Incendio!" She snarled, a vicious smile on her lips.

"You…" His pain forgotten for a moment, Rowle stumbled towards Ophelia only to be stopped by Marcus' strong hand. Without any remorse, Ophelia pointed her wand towards Rowle's bleeding wound and another Incendio ended any ideas he could ever have about some regenerative healing helping him as magic cauterized the injury. _And contrary to her_, Ophelia assumed, _Rowle would know nothing about the wonders of Muggle plastic surgery_. The pain was too much this time and he lost consciousness, only Marcus' grip preventing him from hitting the ground like Siggy had done.

"Take this piece of shit away, Marcus," Ophelia coldly commanded. "And make certain that he'll survive." Marcus nodded; his face pale. He would be in serious trouble if Rowle died. "And, Marcus," she stopped him again. Her face softened a tiny bit. "Thank you." He nodded curtly and dragged Rowle away, leaving Ophelia to take care of Andromeda.

_Hopefully the Dark Lord will more amused than angry about the incident_, Marcus mused on his way. _This will hurt_.

.

_**The Burrow (T-24)**_

.

"I want to be part of the attack team."

Albus Dumbledore's demand caught them by surprise. They had met at the Burrow out of safety. The chances were simply too great that someone would notice a meeting this size, especially including both Albus and Amelia. Cullen had just finished his explanations, including how he intended to get a small attack team into the lair, a team whose duty would be to occupy the full force of Voldemort's troops, at least for a few minutes, and open the way for the bulk force.

Amelia stayed silent and thoughtfully watched Albus and Cullen. This was his decision. Amelia had more than enough on her plate like organizing her task force of dozens of Aurors, most of them without knowledge of the impending attack until the last moment. Following Snape's suggestion, she had organized them in little teams, officially for reacting to all kind of expected trouble. As Snape had reminded her, Voldemort had been in favour of "Halloween Festivals" in the form of Muggle hunting, Muggleborn bashing and Blood-traitor killing in the past. A few of such "activities" were actually planned, as far as Snape knew, but only as a distraction from the main event. However, it was a good excuse to keep all active Aurors on duty and ready at a moment's notice.

A few days ago, Amelia held a few meetings with different groups of Aurors, to prepare for Halloween. She had been accompanied by a very tight-lipped Kingsley – in truth a polyjuiced Cullen. While she still intended to make a full scan of the Ministry with a squib-scout like Marius Black, Amelia wanted to make sure that there wouldn't be any bad eggs among her forces. She absolutely hated the idea of losing men to "friendly fire" because of changes in allegiances in the middle of the fight. They found three "Easter eggs" among her men and Amelia personally organized something for them.

"Alright," Cullen nodded slowly. "I could really use your abilities in there. But you have to accept that I'm the leader. No solo runs on your part. Severus, Harry and I have important tasks to perform. You would be there for our support, not to interfere."

"I understand," Albus agreed. Neither Amelia nor Cullen was certain about that but it had to be enough for now.

.

_**Malfoy Manor (T-3)**_

.

"Good afternoon."

Severus Snape led his guests into the blue salon. He decided on using this room because it was far brighter and more welcoming than the more traditional smoker's lounge that was Lucius Malfoy's preference. The mood of the salon would help his guests relax and distract their mind from the evening event. _It would be easier to ambush them as well_.

Gibbon followed him into the room, in silence and with barely a nod as a welcome. Equally silent he accepted the glass and gulped down the content without really noticing its nature. Snape had detected the changes in the man since rumours started to spread about the exact nature of today's ritual. The creation of a Horcrux, the idea of splitting your own soul and do something so completely against the natural order of things – that was strong stuff even for a Death Eater. Gibbon belonged to a traditionally Anglican family and while he wasn't a deeply religious man, some things had been ingrained into his heart. Regarding Muggles as some kind of cattle was compatible with his belief – actually it wasn't too different from how his great grandfather had thought of slaves from sub-Saharan Africa. This Horcrux matter however was something completely different.

Snape knew that look. He saw it once fifteen years ago in the eyes of Regulus Black, this sad look of morals and belief clashing with loyalty and political views. Goyle was too dumb and Travers too fanatic to ever have that look however. It made Snape a tad sad that they intended to sacrifice all three of them tonight. Perhaps there was a way to rescue Gibbon at least – but perhaps not.

"I hate this… waiting." Gibbon said after a while. The four Death Eaters had barely spoken a complete sentence and each was dwelling on his own thoughts. It wasn't difficult to assume that they were pondering the rest of the night. With Goyle he wasn't certain however as he could only be pondering his last meal's content and trying to digest it.

Perhaps it was time to start the real task, Severus thought. "I wanted to show you something, Gibbon." The man only nodded, happy to get a distraction, whatever it was. Putting his glass down, he followed the Potion Master and left the room. Calmly they walked down the floor, Snape enforcing his Occlumency not to let anything slip. At last they entered the huge and a bit confusing library of the manor. It was very appropriate for a little ambush.

"So, what did you want to show me?" Gibbon asked, raising a single eyebrow.

Snape actually sighed and looked somewhat sad. "I'm sorry my friend."

Gibbon narrowed his eyes in confusion. Before he had a chance to react, he heard some unknown voice spelling one of the words he hated the most: "Imperio!"

.

"All three are cared for," Snape informed Cullen thirty minutes later. With Sirius polyjuiced as Gibbon, it had been a piece of cake to put Goyle and Travers too under an Imperio. They got a special dispense from Amelia Bones to use the spell tonight. Not that Snape actually cared. He had the feeling that he wouldn't have to ponder legal repercussions tomorrow.

The rest of the attack team had gathered in one of the endless number of salons of the Manor, waiting for the signal. Apart from Snape there were eight persons present. Two of them would apparate with each of the four Death Eaters. Three of them had special tasks at the ritual meeting. The imperiused Death Eaters would start a distracting attack at a prearranged signal. The rest would have to wait in the room Snape had chosen for their arrival, for the battle to start. Then and only then, would they try to support the main players of this little game of chess.

The plan was simple yet efficient. Snape only hoped that it would be enough.

.

_**Voldemort's Lair (T-1)**_

.

It had hurt and more than a bit. Hearing about her little intermezzo and especially how she (man)handled the man/matter, the Dark Lord had luckily reacted with no small amount of humour mixed into his rage. Certainly, he had made generous use of the Crucio on her, long enough for her to lose control of her bladder right in front of the whole inner circle – not one of her proudest moments. But she survived and she would only have few scars as a reminder of the ordeal. He had even allowed her brother to take care of her, not that Theo had more than a passing knowledge of healing spells or potions. Luckily Severus had been there too, carrying on with the task of treating her.

Only later did she learn that Marcus Flint had organized the help, a little thank you for not spilling his name under the Crucio. Ophelia knew, like Marcus, that most other Death Eaters would have used every opportunity to steer their master's wrath towards a different target. Betrayal came easy to them. Ophelia however had endured her punishment alone.

In the end the Dark Lord had forgiven her, partially because he respected her viciousness, and partially because he accepted her explanation. It wasn't only female solidarity about such a heinous attack, in her case it was something more personal: "It could have been me. Without my brother abducting her, I would have been in that cell as a prisoner. I've no doubt Rowle would have tried to rape me too. And there would have been nobody to defend me."

He didn't really understand, being a man and one without any other feelings than hate and disgust in his heart, but he had accepted and lessened the punishment. The watching Death Eaters had been reluctant to show any emotions. It was no secret they liked to see women put in their "rightful places", chauvinistic pigs that they were, but on the other hand Rowle didn't hold many friends among them and more than one of the more insane ones flinched thinking about the loss of body parts. At least Bella hadn't been there. She certainly would have congratulated Ophelia. Not a soothing thought: that a madwoman like Bella would be proud of her. Ophelia shuddered.

That was a mental picture she could live without.

.

It had been obvious, at least to her. Gibbon's behaviour had been weird these days. He belonged to the immensely small number of Death Eaters she liked to have around. Perhaps because of this she knew him well enough to notice the small signs. Most other wouldn't notice. It wasn't like he was unrecognizable. He hadn't spoken or moved differently, didn't appear to be under drugs or alcohol; his voice hadn't slurred and he wasn't giggling maniacally the whole time. It had been far more unobtrusive.

Gibbon mentioned the meeting in Malfoy Manor twice and how nice it had been and that he expected to be invited again. He seemed determined to spend the hours before the ritual at Malfoy Manor, unwilling to change that schedule. Right now he would be there together with Travers and Goyle. Ophelia hated the former and despised the latter. One brutal and clever, the other brutal and dumb – in the end the intellect made no difference, it only influenced their ways of torturing and killing any target they set their eyes on. Gibbon was different but he would be with them this evening – and with Severus.

Severus – somehow he had influenced the dynamic trio to be his guests tonight, Ophelia was certain of it. Not using an Imperio, she would have noticed. However, there certainly were potions to make good use of. Or perhaps it had been a compulsion spell. What could be the reason of such a deed? The only one she was able to think of was to…

_They were part of a plan to free Andromeda_. Ophelia nodded. _Yes, this had to be it. Severus was planning something to free her._

What to do however with this piece of information? It would have been her duty to warn the Dark Lord or at least to speak about it with her brother. Should she stay silent? Her punishment would be harsh should anybody realize her knowledge and her unwillingness to part with it. Obviously Severus wasn't simply planning to free Andromeda from her cell. It would have been easier to do this in advance, several days before the ritual. Perhaps it could even have been organized without unveiling his participation in the rescue.

_No, they're planning some big attack_, Ophelia mused. _They're planning to take HIM down tonight, like Halloween fifteen years ago_.

It was her chance to get rid of this weak and disgusting band of thugs, to have a free life at last.

Now she had two decisions to make: How much risk to take tonight and what to do about her brother?

Should she go away to be safe? Stay in her room at the lair? Help the attackers in any way? The Slytherin in her told her to leave right now. It would be safer this way, diminish her chances to get caught in the crossfire. However, to help the attackers wouldn't only sooth this annoying feeling of affinity with poor Andromeda. It would certainly also help her social and legal standing after the political climate changed. While she never took the mark, she still had strong connections to the organization and had more than once supported the Dark Lord. "I had no choice," was an awful weak excuse for a grown woman.

And her brother? She loved him in a way, not as much as twenty years ago but still. However, he was responsible for this whole mess. As the head of the family, he forced her to participate and more than once tried to use her as a bargaining chip in his worthless political manoeuvres. She should save him. She could do nothing and watch him being sentenced to Azkaban after tonight's defeat. Or she could do something… decisive, changing the dynamics in House Nott and break free of her bindings. It would certainly be good for her nephew as well. Theo Nott junior already showed far too many signs of growing into the same kind of worthless scum as her brother and father before him.

_He always had a weak heart. It would be awful but completely understandable should the exertion and excitement of the battle prove too much for him to handle_.

_Decisions, decisions_, Ophelia groaned. Luckily she had never been as weak-willed and indecisive as her dear brother.

She grabbed a bottle from her trunk. _Time for a little visit_.

.

_**A/N**_

_The song I used is the one from the game "Dragon Age: Inquisition". _

_The sentence about both wands is stolen from the film "Sin City"._

_**Regretfully I own neither.**_


	13. Chapter 13 Here comes the Cavalry (P1)

_**A/N**_

_The first part of this chapter originated from a number of reviews about Albus. I wanted to clarify that the Albus of this story isn't the same as in my main trilogy. He isn't bad but only over-confident. Most of all he is – slowly and painfully but nonetheless – capable of learning._

**.**

**Here comes the Cavalry (Part One)**

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_**Malfoy Manor**_

.

_Today is the day – to make a stand, to fight a battle and to create history._

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts and Leader of the Light – only he wasn't the leader any longer. For years he had dreamt of this day. For years he had planned, organized and ploted – only to find all those ideas thrown out of the window by one man and a newcomer to this world to boot.

He had envisioned this battle at the Ministry, in Diagon Alley or – with much trepidation but highly likely nonetheless – on the grounds of Hogwarts. The forces of light, united behind the Order of the Phoenix and under his command, would have fought valiantly against endless hordes of Death Eaters, Vampires, Werewolves and Giants. Dementors and Acromantulas would harass the edges of the battle field and stormy clouds would pour down rain, thunder and lightning. Perhaps one side would have been able to get a few dragons to support them. The Giant Squid would prove his true power. And he would allow Minerva to use that spell at last, activating the hundreds of stone guardians that had slumbered for centuries on the edges of Hogwarts, while endless columns of animated knight armours filled the corridors with their thunderous steps.

Nothing of this would happen. Instead of waiting for Voldemort to start the attack, staying on the defensive, Steward Cullen had decided to be the aggressor in this battle. Instead of endangering school and students alike, he wanted to choose the battle field and to force his own plan onto the enemy. Not react but act was his dogma. Not Albus but Cullen and Amelia would be in lead of the forces. He however was relegated to the role of cannon fodder, brought into place and set lose to bring havoc onto the enemy lines. And the worst part perhaps? He was content with the role. The last months brought so many new wonders, so many shocking news and insights. It was difficult to stay secure in your own opinion and self-confident when proven wrong so often.

Harry – he had been a major factor in the change Albus felt taking place in his mind. Harry's role in this war had been his greatest error perhaps. _He has the power the Dark Lord knows not_. Albus had been so certain that love had been the weapon the prophecy mentioned. Cullen, despite not really believing in Divination, nor being fully convinced that it had to be Harry who killed Tom, nonetheless found a weapon for Harry – a deadly weapon, traditional in its making but still unknown to Tom. Whoever had heard of sword wearing a blessing? And not some nonsense like those Catholic Priests had done for centuries when blessing the weapons of all soldiers on both sides, but a real one, a blessing perceptible by Cullen and his band of misfit squibs.

Even more important had been how he handled Harry's curse scar. Albus had done his own research in the past. He had pored over books, conversed with friends all over the world and even contacted some Curse-Breakers at Gringotts. Despite the rumours, he hadn't simply accepted the scar. But nothing had helped. Nobody had any idea on how to get rid of it. In the end he accepted it, accepted the idea of Harry having to die for the better good. In hindsight he wondered if he surrendered too early. Perhaps his subconscious had influenced his reasoning, and dampened his otherwise sharp mind. Perhaps the idea of Harry being a hopeless case had convinced him too soon to stop his research and to accept Harry's fate.

Albus had been stunned when Cullen told him about Harry's cure. It had shocked him to the core that this newcomer, this squib, had found a way to do something he – the great Albus Dumbledore – thought to be impossible. Even he wasn't above a trace of overconfidence and pride – overconfidence in his own abilities and pride in being a wizard. Cullen wasn't able to cast the smallest spell but he had been successful where Albus had given up and lost all hope. That his caretaker Argus Filch, a squib himself and depending on Albus' generosity for decades, had been a part of this solution, was even more degrading.

Now, Harry had a future again. He could live his life to the fullest; spend it with his Muggleborn girlfriend, friends and family. His dreams could come true now. In the time to come, Harry wouldn't be known as the boy-who-lived-because-of-his-mother's-sacrifice or the boy-who-conquered-and-died but as the boy who lived his life to the fullest. Cullen made it awful clear that he didn't see Harry's existence as a weapon for one single battle, but as someone who could change and influence this society as a whole. Harry, certainly with the help of Miss Granger, would drag the backward magical society into the next millennium, be it kicking and screaming.

_Perhaps it's time to allow a new generation to lead us_, Albus mused. He missed the years he had spent with his friend Nicholas Flamel, years spent with Alchemy and research, poring over books and discussing ideas with equally sharp minds. _I've led our society for decades. I've fought in three wars. Perhaps I'm allowed to enjoy my last decades in peace_. Albus stared at his withered hand. He had been convinced he would die before the school year ended. He had been prepared to give his life for the greater good. Now, Cullen hadn't only given Harry a future, but hope to Albus as well. He promised to cure the curse lingering in his hand after the battle – or at least he had promised to try and Cullen had sounded convinced that it would be possible. Hope was a fragile thing but incredible strong at the same time. The question had only been: was he willing to hope?

"Are you coming?" Severus asked surprisingly gentle. "The others are waiting."

With a thoughtful smile Albus put his tea cup down. "Certainly."

_Today was the day to fight a battle._

_Tomorrow will be the time to feel hope again._

.

_**Voldemort's Lair – Private Rooms**_

.

"Here's to you." Ophelia raised her own glass, her eyes never leaving her brother's face. She felt the small vial burning in her pocket. It had been in her possession for weeks now, actually since that disastrous battle at the Ministry. While she still loved her brother, she despised far more how he controlled her life and the choices he made, both for himself and his family. It was tradition among pureblood families for a brother to protect and control his sister, especially if as an elder. It was his right and duty to ascertain her lifestyle, her future and to get her an appropriate husband.

However, Ophelia never wanted any of this. She wanted to be free of those reigns, to control her life on her own, and make her own decisions and choices, right or wrong. She was neither especially wise nor perfect, but so wasn't her brother – or her parents. Why should she be denied to make her own errors only because she was born without a dick? Her family's wealth would allow her a few years of globetrotting before she decided what to do with her life. She was thirty-eight already, had left Hogwarts twenty years ago. And what had she to show for those years? Nothing, no experience, no education, and certainly no happiness.

The last decade had been filled with endless rows with her family, with dozens of suitors – one uglier and dumber than the next, with only this damned pureblood-machoism uniting them in their stupid advances. Her family would never allow her to accept a Half-Blood or a Muggleborn even as a fiancé, despite there being some really nice eye-candies out there, intelligent and willing to treat her like a partner and not some brood-mother or arm-appendage. _Your mouth is for smiling, not speaking_.

Education? An occupation? Her father would get an apoplexy only hearing about those dreams of hers. Luckily he was dead already. Now, only her brother stood in her way. She had needed him until now to protect her from the likes of Amycus Carrow and Antonin Dolohov, but not anymore.

"A votre santé!" Theodore Nott reciprocated her wish and gulped down the whiskey faster than he should, nervous as he was. He had no idea about the little extra added to his drink. Ophelia had chosen a dose that only proved lethal with some additional stress. It was her last little precaution in case the attack didn't happen. Hopefully her medical calculations had been right. In a little deviation from the widely known proverb: _a Gryffindor would die for his freedom, a Slytherin would kill for it_.

"See you later."

.

"He's sleeping, Mistress." Fipsy greeted her when Ophelia returned to her room. Fipsy had been in her family's service since her birth, like her mother and grandmother before her. She belonged to the trio of House-Elves that were mostly used by Ophelia and not the rest of the Nott family, in her case because Theo didn't like how the tiny creature tended to speak her mind freely.

Ophelia simply nodded and examined the heavy man. Banishing an additional dose of sleeping potion into Marcus Flint's stomach, she stepped back and shortly watched him thoughtfully. She liked him well enough. Naturally she had noticed his crush on her weeks ago. Perhaps she would take him as a lover for a while, careful not to break his little heart. For her it would be simple fun, for him hopefully an experience. Both would gain from a little affair, perhaps while they cruised around the Mediterranean or the Caribbean. Ophelia liked her skin tanned a bit more than the British weather – and the old-fashioned British society customs – allowed.

In any case, she didn't want him to die. She couldn't risk acting too soon but she wanted to be prepared. Should no attack happen tonight, Marcus would awake tomorrow and certainly be a little embarrassed but none the wiser. However, should the attack happen, he would be alive afterwards. To her knowledge, Marcus had never been part of more than a bit of Muggle-harassing since accepting the mark. His part in the rescue of Andromeda should secure him some leniency from the victors as would Ophelia's influence among the moderate parts of the Ministry. At a pinch, she would have to keep him away from Great Britain for a while until everything calmed down again.

"Stay with him, Fipsy. You feel the wards around this place, yes?"

Fipsy nodded. The wards had been around the place since they arrived. They even prohibited house-elves from leaving the whole place, only allowing small jumps within the lair.

"If and when you feel the wards collapse, I want you to apparate with him to my hunting lodge in Wales. Can you do that for me?"

The tiny elf nodded, her ears flapping wildly. "But what about you, Mistress?" It was obvious how much she disliked the idea of leaving her behind.

"I will be safe," Ophelia said, more hoping to be right than actually certain. "I'll call you should I need you. But for now he is your duty. Understand?"

"Fipsy understands. Mistress can trust Fipsy."

"I know I can," Ophelia gave her a short one-armed hug. "See you later."

.

"What is this?" Arriacus Carrow, one of the many maniacs produced by his family and in the Dark Lord's service like his cousins, eyed the tray warily.

"Pure poison," Ophelia answered and rolled her eyes. It wasn't like she hadn't expected his demeanour. With slight amusement she watched him perform a number of spells, hiding her real satisfaction and relief deep within. She had known the man far longer than she liked to think about. He had been, like his cousin Amycus, one of the suitors her brother Theo dragged into her house. He was even madder and crueller than Amycus but his lack of intellect and real talent had prohibited him from joining the Inner Circle – quite a feat with even Crabbe and Goyle sitting there. She had not only known that he would use spells to examine the drinks and food but also which spells. This knowledge had influenced her choice of the poisons used because her statement had been honest in the end: the drinks were poisoned; only it was a kind not traceable by your run-of-the-mill spells. Someone like Severus wouldn't fall for this but nobody had ever accused Arriacus of being especially clever.

"Satisfied?" She asked, raising a single eyebrow.

"Why are you doing this?" Arriacus asked, still wary of her reasons. The other members of his team were already itching for the tray's content. The night promised to be long and boring. Watching the lair while the Inner Circle had all the fun was nothing they especially enjoyed. _Life's not easy at the bottom_; the statement was equally true among the Dark Lord's followers.

"Boredom," Ophelia shrugged. "Theo is preparing for tonight and I had nothing to do," she reminded him of the fact that she wasn't allowed to the ritual as well. Yes, boredom he could understand. Ophelia smiled inwardly, guessing correctly that Arriacus hated the fact that his cousins was allowed where he wasn't welcome. With a bored wave he allowed his men to accept the drinks. "But only two glasses each. I don't want to explain to the Dark Lord why anybody is drunk."

_Two glasses would be more than enough_, Ophelia grinned without creasing her face. Her part was mostly done. Now she had to stay and wait. The potions would only start to do their work after an activation spell. Putting down half a dozen Death Eaters on her own would make quite an argument in her defence, or so she hoped.

_Waiting it is now._

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_**Voldemort's Lair – Storage Room**_

.

Four low plopping sounds announced the arrival of the assault team, as Cullen labelled their small group of Kamikaze fighters. The team members immediately let go of the hands of their _Death Eaters taxi _and secured the room. As hoped – and assured by Snape's spells – the room was empty and deserted. Its sole door led to one of the corridors towards the main chamber of the facility. Snape had carefully chosen the room but there was still the chance that somebody came across it at a later time. Hopefully it would be some single struggler, someone Hermione and Luna could handle on their own.

"Everybody alright?" Cullen asked and looked around, getting nods from the team members while the trio of imperioused Death Eaters calmly awaited their next orders.

In the meantime, Harry fetched his old DADA coin and tested it. As expected the message reached the corresponding coins of Luna, Hermione and Sirius. A few seconds later, he got additional messages from Amelia Bones and her squad leaders. Ben Granger, while having a coin on his own, wasn't able to send a message, but Harry knew that his future father-in-law felt better having one. "Everything alright with the messages." He told Cullen.

"Good," he sighed before giving Snape the signal for the next step. The potion master fetched three vials of Polyjuice potion from his pockets as well as three potions to reverse the effect. He added a few healing potions for good measures, as well as a Bezoar and an antivenin in case Nagini was able to bite someone. Carefully he prepared the potions with hairs from Gibbon, Goyle and Travers and offered them to Harry, Cullen and Albus. They would accompany him into the central chamber while the real Death Eaters stayed here with Sirius and Marius Black for their own little battle task.

"Everybody know their target? The course of action is clear as well as what to do 'just in case'?"

One by one everybody nodded. Cullen used the moment to embrace Luna as did Harry with Hermione. If their embraces were a tad too tight and long to be appropriate, nobody cared about it right now. "Be careful," more than one team member whispered, each of them knowing that it wouldn't really be possible to do that, especially not for Cullen's little group.

"Let's go."

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_**Voldemort's Lair – Main Chamber**_

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Harry/Travers took, as inconspicuous as possible, a few deep breaths as he entered the main chamber. Their long talks with Professor Snape hadn't actually prepared for the dark atmosphere of the room. It was overwhelming and oppressive. Harry wondered how Snape had been able to endure this for all those years without going mad. His eyes searched for Snape, his frame ramrod as he walked around. _Perhaps he hadn't been able to_.

Two objects dominated the whole chamber: an empty, massive and somewhat ridiculous looking throne on a two-step dais and a sacrificial stone in the middle of the room, complete with shackles and equally empty. While the quartet walked around to take the agreed-upon positions, Harry's eyes wandered around. Around twenty Death Eaters were present. One position near the throne was left empty, the other occupied by the sole death Eater without his silver mask: Antonin Dolohov. For a moment rage caused Harry's blood to pound in his ears and drowned out the voices. He wanted to kill the man who had hurt Hermione, nearly murdered her at the Ministry. A small nudge from Cullen/Gibbon brought him back to reality. Hastily he took his place, near the throne and across from Dumbledore/Goyle. Snape had told them how to act not to draw unwelcome attention to him. Hopefully it would be enough.

Snape's place was the farthest away, towards the exit. It would be his duty to get Andromeda Tonks out of the way. The danger of her being killed by a stray curse was far too great otherwise. Cullen/Gibbon was standing in the second row. Contrary to Harry and Albus, his target was at the edge of the room. His part was perhaps the most important one. Without him, Amelia's far greater forces wouldn't be able to break through the wards in time. Harry remembered that he wasn't expected to look around too much, at least not like a tourist seeing this for the first time. He concentrated on his role again, his hand fumbling for the coin. It was nearly time.

.

The assembly had calmed down and now awaited the arrival of their dark master. Soft steps and a slithering noise announced him. Two junior Death Eaters were the first to leave the corridor. They took their places near the exit, wands at the ready. Next came the biggest snake Harry had ever seen, even worse looking than eighteen months ago at the graveyard. For a moment he had the feeling her eyes were resting on him. His heart pounded. _She knows I'm here, _his flattering nerves told him. He needed all of his self-restraint to stay in place and not to draw his wand or sword.

Despite his fear, Nagini only slithered towards the throne and curled up. Only now did Harry realize that the Dark Lord himself had arrived as well. His face was even more inhuman than four months ago. _Had it really only been four months since Cullen arrived?_ Harry wondered. It seemed far longer. So much had happened, so much had changed, not the least important being his changed feelings towards Hermione – or at least his realizations about those feelings. Voldemort took his place and gestured the last arrivals to continue.

One of them, a slightly ill looking Death Eater with a face vaguely acquainted, stepped forward to occupy the so far empty place near the throne. Two others led a struggling but bound and gagged Andromeda Tonks to the stone slab. She looked better than expected and feared. Perhaps Snape's stories about Ophelia Nott taking care of her hadn't been exaggerated. Harry nonetheless felt the urge to rush forward and free her, but he restrained himself. He had to trust Snape to rescue her. His target was to his right, curled up and very scaly.

_Soon, little snake, very soon_, he promised.

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_**Voldemort's Lair – Storage Room**_

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"You'll stay here." Marius' voice was calm but firm. He had expected this to happen. Cullen had expected it, too. And his orders had been specific and crystal clear. Hermione and Luna had to stay in this room, out of the line of fire and as safe as possible. The girls understood the reasoning. They weren't the brightest witches Hogwarts had to offer for nothing. It didn't stop them from pouting. It was actually very cute to see their reactions. For once they weren't so grown up, in looks or action – at least on Hermione's part – but allowed their teenage age to shine through.

"It's safer in here." It would have been more believable if not coming from Sirius Black, Marauder-paragon and prankster-par-excellence.

"Alright, alright," Hermione agreed with a defeated sigh. Luna said nothing and simply patted her hand. Marius wasn't certain if it was a gesture of acceptance or only one of 'we'll nod now and do our thing afterwards'. Cullen wouldn't like this one bit.

"It's nearly time," Sirius changed the topic, his DADA coin in his hand, the coin that would send the signal for starting the distraction. Marius nodded, shortly glancing toward the waiting trio of Death Eaters. They would send them to their deaths in a few minutes. He hated the idea but there was no different way to separate Voldy from the bulk of his men. If they didn't cause this distraction, the quartet in the main chamber had no chance to reach their goals, no chance to survive the first minute.

Trying to distract himself, he pulled his sword from his scabbard and examined it for a last time, before he prepared his light crossbow. Hopefully he wouldn't need them, but better safe than sorry.

_It's nearly time._

.

_**DMLE standby area**_

.

With cold eyes and barely able to suppress the disgust he was feeling, Kingsley Shacklebolt stared down onto the three beds occupied by three of his Aurors. He had trusted them, until a few weeks ago when Cullen joined them for those organized meetings. Two of them had the Dark Mark hidden under disillusion spells. The third, a senior Auror no less and a man Kingsley had formerly trusted with his life, had admitted under Veritaserum that he was working for Dolohov.

_Traitors, all three of them_, Kingsley sneered.

"Watch them," he commanded the duo of Aurors who would guard them until today's task was over. "Be careful, don't allow them to wake up, and don't allow anybody to see them."

They nodded calmly. Both had been hand-chosen by Amelia Bones, not only because they were trustworthy, but also because both had young children. She couldn't protect every parent under her command, but at least she could protect these two.

Kingsley left the small house in the centre of the standby area. More than fifty Aurors had gathered on the outside around a couple of bonfires. Every Auror who was battle-ready, assumed to be trustworthy, and checked by Cullen, had been ordered to this place. Another twenty were taking care of the Death Eater distraction attacks taking place tonight. Only thirty minutes ago they had been informed about the target of tonight's operation. Now they showed a mix of anticipation, fear and eagerness. Hopefully it would carry them through the night and help them stay alive.

Kingsley wasn't naïve. He expected to lose at least a dozen of them. At least the same number would be seriously hurt. They would attack a mostly unknown place. They had plans of the facility, plans the Auror teams were studying right now. However, plans were no compensation for in depth knowledge of the place. Hopefully, Voldemort's team would feel secure enough under their main wards not to put up with the inconvenience of additional defence mechanism, especially without deathly spell traps. Snape had warned them about some of them, but he still wasn't completely trusted and certainly didn't know everything about the enemy's plans.

According to Snape's guesses, the enemy forces would outnumber the DMLE task force nearly two to one. Fenrir would be there with some of his friends. At least the last full moon was a week ago, so no transformation. The Dementors, since Cullen actually destroyed some of them instead of only driving them away, had been more careful. If Snape's information was correct, they wouldn't be there tonight, at least not en masse. The Aurors had been warned furthermore about the presence of Nagini. They hoped that the assault team would take care of the snake but better be careful.

Assault team – Kingsley shuddered thinking about them. Two squibs, three teenagers, two wizards and the great Albus Dumbledore. It was sheer desperation to call them the assault team and to entrust the success of the whole operation on the result of their actions. If they weren't able to do their part, this battle would be very short-lived.

_It would be a total disaster and a serious blow to the moral of our department_. Kingsley sighed deeply, showing a confident smile to his troops. Curtly he nodded towards the group of supporters. Minerva McGonagall reciprocated the gesture, quickly looking up from her low conversation with Filius Flitwick, Molly Weasley and Ben Granger. Charlie and Bill Weasley were sitting a few steps away, dozing restlessly under the watchful eyes of Remus Lupin, sitting on a tree stump, and Argus Filch who took care of the fire, more to distract himself than out of necessity.

Following Amelia's wave he stepped closer to the bonfire in the middle. His boss was waiting there with the other team leaders:

Brinks – he would secure the whole area with a dozen Aurors, trying to keep away any reinforcements and to take care of any fugitives. Madam Pomfrey, Healer Prewitt and a trio of Auror medics would be with him, too.

Towers – he had the same job as Brinks, only with a smaller flying squad. Charlie Weasley would stay with him as well, on Molly's authoritative demand. Towers had accepted the help, realizing that the Weasley Matriarch didn't want to risk her second son's life if necessary. It was enough to know herself and Bill in immediate danger.

Tonks and Kingsley himself would lead two smaller teams, sweeper teams one and two, into the facility, trying to checkmate as many of the lower echelons as possible.

This left abount twenty Aurors under Amelia's leadership, together with Molly and Bill, Filius and Minerva and the – perhaps very important – presence of Ben and Argus. In the end the other four teams had only one real task: allow Amelia's assembly to break through the defences and get into the main chamber before Voldy's inner circle overwhelmed Cullen's team.

_The plan is nutty_, Kingsley groaned inwardly, _completely nutty. But it's the only one we have_. He gulped and looked up.

"I got the first message," Amelia declared hoarsely. "They're in the main chamber. Everybody at the ready. On the next signal we'll apparate into place. Teams A, K and N on standby, team T takes to the air and team B takes their positions."

"And may the Force be with you." Tonks mumbled. She shrugged and grinned sheepily as she felt more than one pair of confused eyes resting on her: "Always wanted to say that."

"Err, yes," Amelia sighed. "Let's go and kill some dunderheads."

.

_**Voldemort's Lair – Main Chamber**_

.

_I'm not the hero in this story._

Severus Snape, youngest Hogwarts' teacher of the century, youngest potion master since even before that, Death Eater and spy extraordinaire, member of the order of the burned chicken and slave to two masters, remembered quite well the conversation he had with Harry a few weeks ago.

_I tried to save her, but only her. I didn't spare a thought about you or your father. Afterwards I felt bad but only because I caused her death. Back then I still didn't fully understand the wrongness of my choices. It needed years of friendship with Minerva until I was willing to accept it. Perhaps I'm not the villain you saw in me for years anymore, Harry, but I'm not a hero either. Cullen was right: I made my choice and I have to live and die with them._

_I'm not the hero in this story._

Glancing around, Snape watched his 'friends' thoughtfully, his comrades, his brothers-in-arms. He had been one of them for more than fifteen years. Tonight he would kill more than one of them; he would cause the death of even more. His plans and sketches of the facility, his information about the defences and guards, would help the Aurors breach the wards and survive the traps. In a way he was relieved to know Lucius was rotting in Azkaban. He deserved to be there for everything he had done. Still, he had been Severus' friend, had been one of the few Death Eaters treating him well and not only because he saw a useful tool in him. Becoming godfather to Draco was one of the few things Severus had really appreciated. It had been a gesture of friendship. Despite everything he didn't like about the man and what he had done to his family, Severus would have hated the idea of fighting him tonight, perhaps even having to kill Lucius Malfoy.

Mostly fading out the silly speech of his dark master, Severus concentrated on the reactions of the assembly. There had been a noticeable decline in the Dark Lord's mental sanity since the confrontation at the Ministry. There hadn't been a real plan to his course of actions anymore, nothing to connect the pieces in any rational way. Perhaps it had been a repercussion of the destroyed Horcruxes. The others noticed it too, at least the more intelligent among them. They had gotten restless and anxious, not understanding what was happening. And this ritual tonight? It was only proof that the Dark Lord continued his decline.

Severus noticed more than one of his colleagues flinch as the Dark Lord explained the nature of a Horcrux. It was meant to be a statement of his power, talent and intellect_: look at me. I'm able to create more than one Horcrux._ Instead it made them queasy, caused them to doubt his sanity and the moral of his actions. Severus knew the others well enough to have an educated guess which ones would have qualms about this mess. Apart from a few stupid ones – unable to grasp the meaning of a Horcrux – and a few completely mad like the Carrows, most had second thoughts… not serious enough to betray their master but still.

A few pairs of eyes were resting on Andromeda with something akin to pity. Yes, they hated blood traitors, but still she was a woman, a pureblood lady, and one of them. Wrong choices didn't change that in the end. In the end only blood counted to them. Sirius Black was a good example for that slightly weird world view. Despite everything Black had never been legally disowned and in the end it was more important to continue the Black family name than any 'political differences'.

Suddenly a motion caught Severus' eye. He turned around to have a look. There: Nagini had started to move, uncoiling and leaving her place. She was doing that thing with her tongue snakes did to enhance their sense of smell. Her eyes were resting on Harry. Had she noticed the different smell? Was she able to feel the connection? Hopefully she would…

Severus saw Harry's hand reaching for his pocket in slow motion. Now the hand was vanishing in there. Now he would clasp his fingers around the magical metal. Nagini was still watching the disguised boy. The Dark Lord was still rambling. Andromeda was still trembling in fear.

Harry felt Severus' eyes and gave him a small nod.

_Attack!_

.

_**Voldemort's Lair – Storage Room**_

.

Hermione had used the time to calm down; using one of the meditation techniques she had learned from Cullen. Luna was sitting on a table, her legs swinging and her voice filling the air with humming. Hermione had asked her friend what she had whispered into her father's ear before they departed, but got no reasonable answer from the blonde girl. According to Ben Granger's face it had been something soothing his fears. Despite him knowing about Hermione's role in the battle, and understanding that she simply needed to be here, he had opened his mouth several times to stop her, to forbid her from going. In the end he had restrained himself from doing that, partly because he realized that his daughter wouldn't obey him.

_Never make her choose between Harry and you_, Cullen had said to him months ago. _It's possible that you wouldn't like the result_.

Because of her deep thoughts, Hermione needed a few seconds to notice the change. Her coin was burning in her hand. With wide eyes she stared down.

"Hermione?" Sirius asked.

"It's okay, sweetie," Luna gave her a hug, unknowingly using the nickname Beatrice Granger often used for her daughter.

Hermione sighed. "It's time. We've got the signal."

.

_**DMLE standby area**_

.

"The signal," Amelia Bones' voice thundered through the small clearing around the little house. "We got the signal. Prepare yourself."

All over the area the Aurors stopped their conversations, put the letters they had written to their families away or grabbed their wands for a last-minute refresh of some protection charm.

"Thirty seconds," Kingsley yelled.

The groups gathered around their leaders in small groups, the designated 'taxis' readying their port keys. They would transport them to the area where Voldy's lair was hidden under powerful wards. Hopefully the assault team would be able to take them down; otherwise they wouldn't even find the entrance.

"Ten seconds," Kingsley yelled.

Fifty hands were put on a dozen portkeys. Fifty wands were raised. Fifty mouths mumbled something akin to "good luck."

"Go-go-go!"

Fifty plops could be heard; then there was only silence and emptiness, the crackling of a handful of bonfires all that was left behind.

.

_**A/N**_

_This chapter got a bit shorter but the whole fight would be too long for one chapter and this was the only reasonable moment for a cut._

_See you in a few days. If all goes as planned, I'll publish the battle within the next 2-3 days._


	14. Chapter 14 Here comes the Cavalry (P2)

_**A/N**_

_This chapter will perhaps be a bit confusing because of the massive use of Polyjuice. If I write something like "Harry/Travers", I mean "Harry under the guise of Travers". _

_Overall there are: Harry/Travers, Albus/Goyle and Cullen/Gibbon in the main chamber and Travers/Ted Tonks, Goyle/Remus Lupin and Gibbon/Auror Brinks among the secondary team (under Imperio for the bad guys). _

**.**

**Here comes the Cavalry (Part Two)**

.

_**Voldemort's Lair – Main Chamber**_

.

_Something was happening out there, something big._

Severus could feel it as did some of the others. Until now his eyes had been on Nagini, watching her, waiting for her to attack. So far she hadn't done it but her snake-eyes never left Harry/Travers. Merlin be praised, the Dark Lord was too caught up in his own speech to notice anything amiss. Fenrir Greyback however had stopped listening to the words of madness and raised his head, sniffing, listening, and ready to attack whoever presented himself as a target. They had known that his animalistic side, his unusual senses could prove a danger.

A scream of pain erupted from the corridor leading to the main entrance. Another one followed as did the sounds of battle, spells being cast and holes being blasted into walls – or the door. It shuddered once, twice, then with a mighty roar it exploded into the chamber, the wooden and metallic splinters imbedding themselves into the duo of guards standing there, pounds of flesh following; remains of the poor junior Death Eater that had stood in the way on the other side.

"ANDY!" Snape knew this face quite well, the voice of Ted Tonks. Should there be any doubt about his identity, Andromeda Tonks' scream instantly erased them: "TED! Go away, flee…"

Instead he tried to hurry into the chamber, ignoring that he and his four compatriots were vastly outnumbered. Sirius Black was there and Remus Lupin as well as two others, one of them apparently some relative of Black, sharing the hair and looks of him. Remus tried to stop Ted, his face showing defeat in the presence of the gathered masses, while Sirius and the others exchanged spells with more and more Death Eaters coming to their senses. The door of one of the two guard rooms opened and at least eight more Death Eaters, mostly unblooded juniors, stormed into the chamber to defend their lord.

Struggling against Lupin's grip, Ted sent two Cutting Curses against the Dark Lord who deflected them like child's play. His eyes were blinded with tears as he realized the futility of the attack. Contrary to his lord, Antonin Dolohov retaliated in force. The green light of a death curse, used disregarding the chance of killing one of his own men, raced towards the invaders and nearly hit Sirius' Black. For a moment Antonin's eyes widened. He was certain something had deflected his spell, if only for a few inches. It shouldn't be possible. A second Death Curse however hit its intended target. Snape's curse killed Ted Tonks instantly. His lifeless form crumbled to the ground under the wide eyes of his friends and the high-pitched scream of his now-widow Andromeda Tonks.

Sirius and Remus sent a couple of spells towards Ted's killer. Some of them he dodged, two others he deflected with a shield. Then he stepped behind one of the other Death Eaters and 'allowed' him to take the curse. With blood spraying in every direction, he went down. With Andy sobbing but unreachable, Ted dead on the floor, and a dozen Death Eaters storming towards them under the leadership of Fenrir Greyback and the manically screaming Carrow twins, Remus ordered the retreat, pulling his friend Sirius with him.

The fight in the chamber ended thirty seconds later. Fenrir and his team could be heard exchanging spells with Sirius' far smaller group. A few Death Eaters started to examine and treat the injured, mostly ignoring Ted Tonks after one of them confirmed his death and identity.

Severus looked around. It was hard to ignore the hate in Andy's eyes, even more than the very real revulsion in the look of Albus/Goyle. Contrary to Andy, Albus knew that it wasn't Ted Tonks who had just died but Travers under Polyjuice. Still he hadn't liked the idea of simply killing the man only to prove Snape's loyalty and to prepare the next step of Andy's rescue.

_Even Travers deserves_… yadda yadda yadda… _no, he doesn't_, Severus mused. _The only thing he deserves is a clean and swift death_.

Another look around. So much was happening at the same time. The Dark Lord was furiously whispering with Dolohov, presumably about how Tonks had been able to breach the defences. Rookwood was discussing something with Yaxley and Nott, the latter looking more ill by the minute. Thick beads of sweat were visible on his forehead now and he was very pale. Seven more members of the inner circle remained in the chamber, mostly keeping away from the Dark Lord not to arouse his anger further. Only a handful of guards were visible, two of them just walking towards the door of the second guard room. The door was still closed, something that disturbed Severus. The guards in that room should have reacted long ago, why didn't they?

Severus listened towards the exit. The sounds of battle had died down or at least the fight had apparently moved too far away. It was time for the next phase. He braced himself. Now or never. He closed his eyes for a moment, allowed his mind to walk back to happier times. Pictures were called into his conscious mind, pictures of his one and only friend. A smile, brilliant green eyes and a wild mane of red hairs…

_I'm sorry, Lily. I betrayed you. I disappointed you. I'll try to make it up._

For a second he thought to see her smile increase, to watch her nod. Then, with a mighty exertion of his will, he pushed the pictures away and opened his eyes. He noticed Cullen/Gibbon watching him. Severus nodded.

_The signal – time to act._

.

_**Voldemort's Lair – Corridors**_

.

"Don't run away, Cub," Fenrir Greyback snarled at the fleeing backs of Sirius' group. "We still have a score to settle, you traitor." He sent a tripping hex towards Goyle/Lupin and the man stumbled, ungracefully crashed to the ground. The other three stopped and tried to gain him a few moments to recover and stand up.

Only now it became clear to their pursuers that something was unusual about those three or at least about one of them. Sirius and one of his partners showered the Death Eaters with spells, killing two of them and injuring several more. The third fighter however was wearing a sword instead of a wand, a sword he used to deflect a Cutting Curse from Amycus Carrow and a Reducto – targeted at Sirius – from his sister Alecto. Fenrir Greyback however had no eyes for this. Something was wrong. This Remus smelled wrong. Fenrir Greyback wasn't simply another crazy Werewolf, not a simple brute but a real leader. He was an Alpha with special abilities, some gained through his own talent and experience, some bestowed onto him by his dark master. Among them was the ability to sense the Werewolf in others and this one wasn't a Werewolf. Someone was pretending to be Remus but why?

He had to be certain. In a swift move he rushed towards "Remus". Before he had a chance to react – his slowness another sign of him not being a Werewolf – Fenrir reached him, grabbed him with his left and shredded his chest with the right, claws extended – one of his dark lord's gifts: the ability to partially transform irrespective of the lunar phase.

"Remus," Sirius yelled, trying to continue the lousy spectacle. Fenrir kept "Remus" between him and the Blacks, while his claws painful slowly carved into the man's chest and ribbed his heart out. He knew the smell, but where?

Suddenly an alarm run through the facility. They were under attack. Fenrir whirled around, snarling. This was a distraction to allow others to intrude. The real Remus Lupin would be there. These were only pawn sacrifices, perhaps even comrades under Imperios. "Kill them all," he commanded the Carrows. He tossed the cadaver towards Sirius Black and used the moment of distraction to vanish into one of the corridors, gesturing some of the men to follow him. Only the Carrows and four of their men stayed to put the actors down.

"I'll get you, Remus Lupin," Fenrir snarled. "You'll pay for this."

.

_**Voldemort's Lair – Main Chamber**_

.

"Ahhhh."

Everybody looked up as Andromeda Tonks somehow managed to escape her shackles and instantly stormed towards Severus Snape, trying to rip his throat in her pure rage. Nobody had noticed Snape's little sign or Cullen's use of his powers to disable the magical locks. It simply looked like the Death Eater shackling her to the stone had been incompetent. He would pay for this later – if there was a later.

"Ahhhh."

Andy Tonks clawed at the man who had been a friend for years – or so she had thought until tonight. Her eyes were blind with tears of grief and rage. Severus Snape slowly stepped back, trying to defend himself without using magic. The assembly watched the silly event, laughed at Snape's mishap, even if their laughter was more one to ease their own tension. Only their Dark Lord looked unhappy. This should have been a night of triumph. Instead it faster and faster turned into one of embarrassment and utter failure.

"Severus," he yelled with a cutting voice. It was unwise not to attend to his master's wishes, it was dangerous to ignore his voice, and not to look him in the eye if he was speaking with you. However, Snape couldn't help it: the scenery behind his dark master was too thrilling. Nagini, mostly ignoring what was happening around, was now right in front of Harry/Travers, hissing, 'feeling' this weird human who smelled different, who felt familiar but strange too. Harry/Travers extended his right hand with the wand, pointing it towards the Death Eaters between him and Nagini's master. At the same time, his left hand slowly moved towards his back. Snape knew that his Gladius was hidden there. Nagini watched him carefully, curled up and ready to strike.

"Severus, stop this nonsense."

One moment all eyes were on him. The next moment everybody whirled around. Harry flicked his wand and a spell decapitated one of the guards. Nagini took this as her sign to retaliate and advanced. The motion was incredible fast but Harry was even faster. His left hand reappeared together with the Gladius. In one rapid move, trained a hundredfold, he attacked. The blade cut through scales, flesh and bones alike, separating head from body and killing snake and Horcrux in one deathly strike.

The Dark Lord whirled around, a tad unsteady on his feet, confusion, hate and fear on his face. He reached out with his senses, only to recoil as he realized the identity of his attacker at last.

"You…"

Before he had a chance to react, several things happened. Harry jumped behind the stone slab, the same that had been used for Andy Tonks, and started to fling spells at the assembly. Albus/Goyle used the confusion to send a blasting hex towards the middle, hurling the bulk of enemies around like bowling pins. Pure chaos ensued.

.

Nobody gave a shit about what Snape was doing right now. Andy Tonks, as confused about the events as the others, had no chance to dodge the punch. It caught her on the solar plexus, nearly knocking her out and making it impossible to react, defend herself or simply scream as Snape dragged her away. Her helpless rage turned into confusion as the door opened into an adjacent corridor. Ignoring the utter confusion he left behind, Snape dragged her through the door and into the arms of Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood. Without waiting, only acknowledging the girls with a small nod, he returned to the main chamber. His work wasn't done, his fate still undecided.

"Ted isn't dead." Andy who had tried to follow Severus, weak as she felt, stopped dead cold.

"Ted isn't dead," Hermione repeated, while Luna nearly closed the door, leaving it only a bit ajar.

"But I saw…" Tears shot into Andy's eyes.

"You saw what we wanted everybody to see." Hermione saw rage and utter relief fighting in the woman's heart and did the only thing possible: she embraced her. "He's alive, Andy. Ted is alive."

.

Slowly the Death Eaters overcame their confusion. One by one they started to fight back, dispersing as they realized the danger of standing together as an easy hit mass. More than a handful of them was already on the ground, stunned by Albus or cut down by Harry. The crossfire was deadly, but they had sheer numbers on their side – sheer numbers and a terrifyingly enraged Dark Lord who wanted to avenge the death of his pet. Nagini had been one of the few creatures – human or inhuman – he had actually liked and cared for. Add to this the fact of it being one of his Horcruxes and it was understandable that he did everything in his might to put this boy down.

Harry, who needed the abilities of his own body and not the unfamiliar reactions of 'Travers', used the antidote to cancel the Polyjuice. "Hello Tom," he greeted him with a wicked grin. "Long time no see."

"You…" They started to exchange spells, while most of the Death Eaters were occupied with Albus Dumbledore. He mostly used spells to incapacitate but he was a mighty opponent nonetheless. Albus wanted to engage Tom Riddle in a duel but knew that this wasn't his role in the battle. He had to buy Harry time – Harry and mostly Cullen.

While Harry duelled the Dark Lord, while Albus engaged a dozen Death Eaters in a furious all-way battle, and Severus was able to rescue Andy Tonks, a single Death Eater neared a corner of the room, ignored by the rest. There was his target, the warding stone of the whole facility, prepared by the Dark Lord himself, strengthened through the blood of a dozen sacrifices. He sensed the wickedness of the stone. Cullen/Gibbon felt dirty simply by being near it. It was pure blood magic, unhealthy, unclean and unholy. Slowly he drew his sword. He had to trust his compatriots to defend him should anybody try to attack him now. He had to concentrate on the task at hand.

"Andraste," he uttered, raising his sword. One or two Death Eaters started to notice him.

"Andraste," he whirled his sword around, the blade erupting in blue flames. One of the Death Eaters tried to cut him down, only to hastily dodge one of Albus' spells.

"Andraste," Cullen yelled, striking down with his burning sword, the blade smashing into magic and stone alike, breaking them in two halves, cutting them asunder. With a mighty roar the remains poured their magic into the area, causing a mighty wave of power to roll through the chamber. For a moment everybody stumbled and Cullen felt himself pushed to the ground. Groggy but happy he looked around, nodding towards Albus and Harry.

_It was done: the wards were down._

.

_**Voldemort's Lair – Corridors**_

.

Sirius looked up from the seriously wounded Gibbon and exchanged a fleeting smile with his cousin Marius. "Did you feel it?"

Marius nodded slowly. "Something happened. I felt a wave of magic running through the corridor. Have they…?"

Sirius nodded eagerly, his grin broadening. "They did it, the wards are down."

"Hooray," Marius' cry of joy marred by was sheer exhaustion, for good reason. Around him Sirius counted seven corpses in all. Goyle, still looking like his friend Remus for another forty minutes, was among them as were four junior Death Eaters. Both Carrows had died as well. Alecto still had her mad grin on her lips, even in death. Amycus' face was burned too much to detect any emotion.

They had fought bravely, Sirius admitted. His left arm was broken as were several of his ribs. He only had enough power left to heal the most serious cuts in his side and thigh. Without Marius' ability to suppress magic and his swift reactions, Sirius would be dead right now. After hitting Amycus in the face with an elemental flame thrower spell, he hadn't been fast enough to dodge the ambush attack from one of the sidekicks. The poor sod's right arm was lying somewhere about now, cleanly amputated at the elbow thanks to Marius' blade – the same blade that had broadened Alecto's mad grin when Marius thrusted it through her screaming face.

Sirius looked up. Marius didn't look any better. There was blood all over his clothes and Sirius had no idea how much of it belonged to him. "We should go help Harry." It was more desire than actual ability to go through with the idea. His legs were simply unable to support him anymore.

Marius nodded, struggling to keep his eyes open. "We'll go in a minute, only one moment of gathering our strength."

"Yeah, one minute only," Sirius smiled back.

.

_**Voldemort's Lair – Entrance Chamber**_

.

Utter chaos and mayhem – there was no other way to describe the situation in the area that could generously be called an entrance chamber. Actually it was a horseshoe-shaped, upwardly open area with three doors leading into a set of rooms. The middle door was really a trap, as Snape had told them. Using it would cause a massive explosion in front of it. The right one was usable but you had to be careful: a couple of flagstones leading to it were trapped too. Because of the sheer number of new Death Eaters, some soft-hearted older comrade had marked them, but the marks were small enough that you had to go slow and careful. Only the left entrance was free of any traps and usually used by the Inner Circle. Snape however, had used the right one for the last few times and sprinkled a potion on the trapped flagstones, a potion invented by the twins.

"THREE!"

The bulk of Aurors – minus the group of Towers who took to the air immediately after their arrival and a handful staying with the medics – stormed towards the gate, showering it with widespread Reductos, mostly to force the guards into cover. At the same time, they knew this would set off the alarm and hopefully reduce the pressure on the assault team. Amelia and Kingsley, like the rest of the team, had been immensely grateful as the wards went down and the whole facility became visible. Perhaps the attack wouldn't turn into a complete disaster now.

"TWO!"

Three quarters of the Aurors advancing towards the entrances stopped and closed their eyes. The remaining Aurors – mostly belonging to the ground team of Senior Auror Brinks – continued their attack and hurled a dozen flasks into the entrance area. Most of them contained either Solar Powder, an ugly mix of chemicals that caused a short massive flash, or a choking gas. Both wouldn't knock the guards out but occupy them for a few precious seconds.

Three hurlers however used a different kind of missile: vials containing the second component of the twins' potion. While the flashes went wild and blinded the guards – as well as Brinks' Aurors – and the gas was distributed all over the entrance rooms, the last three vials hit their target and seconds later small smoke columns appeared over the trapped flagstones, allowing the more than thirty remaining attackers to rush into the facility.

"ONE!"

The bulk of the attacking force hit the doors. Reductos smashed them into pieces, filling the air with wooden splinters. Arranged three man squads, protecting each other with Protego spells, stormed through the doors.

And then the real fight began.

.

_**Voldemort's Lair – Main Chamber**_

.

"THERE IS NO DARKNESS IN THE LIGHT OF ANDRASTE!"

The shock of realization, that Cullen had broken the wardstone beyond repair, that the facility was visible and unprotected, had barely been handled by the present Death Eaters, as Cullen invoked the sheer power of his belief and soul to call down a chamber filling column of dazzling light. While Voldemort and Dumbledore barely felt it and stronger wizards like Harry, Severus and a few inner circle members were only stunned for a few seconds, it dazed the junior members long enough to equalize the numbers somewhat in favour of the assault team.

Ten seconds – fifteen steps – four strikes – three heads flying – the last target went down as well, but only wounded and unconscious. He had been able to recover in time and moved his head at the last moment just enough not to share the fate of his brethren.

"Put him down!" Cullen yelled. It didn't need any explanation. With a curt nod, Harry started to throw spells at Voldemort's flank, supporting Albus in his attack. In the meantime a yelling and screaming dervish of steel and light started to run amok among the Death Eaters. The younger ones struggled to keep away, not to be near this deathly blade, while the older ones started to concentrate their curses on him. Dodging one spell, deflecting the next with his sword and answering to the hit of a third with an angry grunt – Cullen seemed unstoppable.

Snape however noticed a different danger. Two of the older members of the circle, two of the stronger and more intelligent ones, apparently decided to ignore their master's command and kill Harry on their own. Antonin Dolohov and Yaxley organized a two-pronged attack on the boy, moving around to get to his flanks without endangering themselves to the other's attacks. Only Yaxley was in his line of sight, clear enough to dare casting a spell. Without a second thought, Severus Snape rushed towards the boy. With every second step he hurled a spell towards Yaxley. They didn't accomplish much damage but at least prevented him from hitting Harry in the back.

_Three steps –_ Dolohov used a Protego to shield himself from any interruption.

_Two steps –_ Dolohov had only eyes for Harry and waved his wand. Severus recognized the wave he had taught the man, the spell he had been so proud of.

_One step –_ Snape yelled a Reducto that shattered Yaxley's shield and pushed him into the wall. Dolohov stopped the motion and five pale blades of magical energy raced towards the boy.

_Zero_ – Harry only saw the dark shadow at the last moment. Before he had a chance to react, he was pushed away and he had a good look at five blades smashing into the shadow, spraying him and the ground around them with hot blood.

Feeling dazed he stared at the well-known face of the man he had hated for so long, the man he hadn't completely forgiven for the deeds of his youth. The face was even paler than usual but he looked… proud, even relieved.

"Traitor!" The yell alarmed Harry. Over Snape's fallen body he saw Dolohov sneer in their direction before he raised his wand another time. Without a second thought, Harry reacted.

"Lancea!" The spell was too fast and accurate to dodge, too strong to be deflected by the already fading shield. It smashed through the defence and Dolohov's face, created a hole in his head that didn't belong there and didn't look healthy. He collapsed, without another sound.

Dolohov was dead, Hermione avenged, and Harry rescued – but at what price?

.

_**Voldemort's Lair – Entrance Chamber**_

.

The confusion and mayhem was incredible. The teams of Kingsley and Tonks had departed as soon as possible, taking Hestia Jones and Remus Lupin with them. Amelia's team however met far more resistance than expected. Being led by a coward but cunning Scabior, they used every advantage, every knowledge of the terrain and every ward and trap, to slow them down.

Amelia heard the sounds of fighting from other areas of the facility and could only hope that the other teams were able to do their part of the battle plan. She knew that Ben Granger and his small group, consisting of Bill Weasley and two experienced Aurors, was eager to get away.

To her right, Filius Flitwick was fighting like a little Yoda. For a moment Amelia smiled as she remembered the film she had been forced to watch by little Susan. Now she understood the comparison. Filius was jumping back and forth, doing flips and summersaults, while showering the Death Eater guards with spells of all kind.

To her left, Minerva tried to reach Scabior. His death would certainly help disorganize the defence. She just battled two guards with the help of Molly Weasley, while Scabior used the momentary relief to sidestep them and retreat into the next room. However, in doing this, he opened a side-path for Ben. Hermione's father, despite feeling his restlessness grow with every minute, ordered his men to advance. Bill glanced in Amelia's direction and shrugged helplessly, before he followed him, the duo of Aurors taking side positions.

Amelia had no time to ponder about them. A couple of spells were hurled towards her and the group around her. She deflected one and saw another one being stopped by a gleaming blade. Argus Filch grunted, pearls of sweat running down his face. He was clearly exhausted, but he looked prouder… taller. _Hopefully he'll survive,_ Amelia mused, before concentrating on her foes again. _Hopefully I'll survive this, too_.

.

Ben Granger would never know how close he came to death in that moment. Running down the corridor, Bill and the two Aurors struggling to keep up, he had no idea that Fenrir Greyback and six Death Eaters were on collision course. Within the next twenty seconds they would meet each other. Three seconds later he would be dead, with no chance to survive the first attack of the vicious claws.

However, it never happened like this. One of the Death Eaters stumbled into Fenrir, who had suddenly stopped with a hiss. Angrily he punched the poor man into the face, knocking him out cold.

"What the…?" One of the others asked. Without any explanation, Fenrir Greyback whirled around and started to run back, even faster than before. The five still standing Death Eaters shared scowls and frowns about the weird behaviour, but silently obeyed. He would know what he did.

And Fenrir actually did know something the others had no chance of noticing. He had felt the death of Antonin Dolohov; it was one of the many precautions prepared by the experienced man. If Dolohov was dead, then his master was in actual danger. His survival was more important than anything else. Death Eaters could be recruited. Facilities could be prepared. However, there was only one master.

_Hang in there!_

.

_**Voldemort's Lair – Edge of the Main Chamber**_

.

Hermione Granger strangled a scream, but only barely, biting in her hand while tears shot into her eyes. Her eyes resting on Harry who just killed Dolohov and jumped away from Snape's unmoving body to dodge an ill-targeted Cutting Curse from Yaxley, who luckily was still recovering from Snape's onslaught. The girl felt Luna's iron grip on her arm.

"We can't rush in. It would distract them, kill them."

Hermione heard the pain in Luna's otherwise dreamy voice. She nodded, knowing that Luna had to feel the same as she, seeing the one she loved in there fighting for his life. Andromeda was still very weak. They couldn't simply leave her behind all alone.

"Help me with Severus." Luna commanded, trying to sound confident. Grabbing each other's hands, the girls concentrated on combining their spell power, forcing their magic to do something akin to an Accio spell but more controlled and most of all slower. Snape looked bad enough, hurling him through the chamber wouldn't do him any good. Similar to being under the effect of a Mobilicorpus, he slowly started to move, gaining a bit of tempo until he hovered towards them at walking speed. Luckily everybody was too occupied with the fight – mostly with Cullen still running rampage – to notice anything amiss.

The question only was: were they too late?

.

_**Voldemort's Lair – Entrance Chamber**_

.

The first sign of a bad fight turning worse was the sudden coldness. Their breath became visible as clouds of steam hanging in the air and the Aurors started to shudder.

The good part: most of the still mobile Death Eaters tried to get away from the Aurors and the fighting area.

The bad part: two doors opened and a new force entered the battle. The presence of the handful of Dementors was something Amelia Bones had expected – and prepared for. She had expected to see even more of them tonight and wondered if the rest of the cloaked folk had embraced the fear of Steward Cullen's light even more than she had hoped. The presence of the last two fighters entering the fray however was unexpected and unwelcome.

While her Aurors struggled to dodge the Dementors and to use the Patronus spell against them, the pale man on the left jumped Amelia's team far faster than should be possible. He dodged every single spell like the Aurors were moving in slow motion. In the hustle of the fight her men had to be careful not to hit each other, something this unnatural attacker made good use of.

"Vampire!" The loud warning resounded through the corridor. The attacker tossed two of her men into a group of Aurors, grabbed a third and snapped his neck like a twig.

One the other side an equally pale woman followed his lead, only she didn't dodge most spells but simply ignored them. Neither Reductos nor Cutting Curses seemed to have much effect on her and she made deadly use of her claws, ripping into chests and necks while wading through the corridor.

"Carnifex!" A whip of flaming energy erupted from the wand of Auror Andrews. He targeted one of the Dementors which got kept at bay by two Patronus creatures and unable to dodge the attack. The flame ripped through the dark cloak that encompassed his 'body' and burned parts of it away. An unholy scream filled the corridor and smoke erupted from the gashes. The scream was enough to stop the fight for a second and even stun the pair of Vampires. Not stopping for a victory dance, Andrews used the whip another two times to permanently get rid of the Dementor before he turned around, looking for his next target.

Amelia felt proud for a moment. It had been the right decision. With the Dementors still officially on the Ministry service rooster and the Carnifex spell prohibited to teach within the borders of Great Britain, she had used some connection with the Spanish DMLE to send a couple of her Aurors over to them. They had learned the spell over there, under the guise of taking a vacation. She knew there would be repercussions and heated discussions about the legality of her decision, but obviously it was worth it.

The pale Vampire had just killed another Auror – his third victim all in all – as he suddenly started to move slower than before. Filius had started to distract him with spells that were more brightness than real harm, and Minerva used the moment to transfigure the ground below him into quicksand. Losing the benefit of his superior speed, it was now possible to hit him with multiple spells at the same time. Every single one of them did only a tiny amount of damage but all together they were tearing him down. Filius, knowing of the Vampire's resistance to direct spells, started to target his clothes and shoes. Charming them to weigh tenfold, leather and cloth slowed him down even more.

For a second Amelia dared to hope, dared to smile. It was nearly a second to long. Someone yelled her name and Amelia allowed her battle reflexes to take over. Belying her age she went to the ground in a move making every drill-sergeant proud. Something jumped through the air where she had been a split-second before. With an angry snarl the female Vampire whirled around and attacked the person that had warned Amelia: Molly Weasley. Ignoring the deep cuts of Molly's curses, she advanced and slashed at her. The Weasley Matriarch tried to dodge but was too slow. The claws left deep cuts in her wand arm and the wood cluttered to the ground below the now powerless hand. The Vampire didn't stop at that and a shudder went through Molly's body under the onslaught. A vicious snapping sound announced the breaking of her left arm she had used to protect her face and neck. The strike was powerful enough to push her against the wall and onto her knees.

Amelia hit the Vampire in the shoulder with her strongest Reducto. The creature barely grunted. Andrews had just destroyed his third Dementor, the last two trying to flee the scene, and now advanced towards Molly. He would be too late. Amelia just started another spell, a Lancea to buy Molly some precious seconds, as she noticed someone moving towards the fighting pair. Out of nowhere a blade appeared and got thrusted through the Vampire's chest. Wicked claws clawed helplessly at the metal, while Argus Filch heaved her off the ground, whirled around and tossed her against the next wall. It must have been pure adrenaline that allowed him the feat. His blade, now free again, swung around in a wild circle. The Vampire lady, still dazed from the former attack, tried to dodge but was too slow. Making impressive imitations of gawking fishes, Amelia and her Aurors stared at the scenery as the Vampire's head flew through the corridor and hit first the wall and then the ground with sickening noises.

Suddenly feeling very old and exhausted, Amelia looked around. The fight was over for now at last. She had lost three men to Scabior's team and another five to the Vampire. Several more were seriously injured. She hastily sent signals to the other teams. She needed backup and fast. Most of all however, she needed a couple of medics in here. Ordering three Aurors to stay with Molly and the other injured, she gathered the rest of her men.

_Way to go._

.

_**Voldemort's Lair – Edge of the Main Chamber**_

.

Severus Snape only stopped to scream as Luna made a break with her attempts at healing him. He was awake again, if only from the pain, but the blood loss was life-threatening. Nothing helped; no healing spell, no pressure to the wounds, and no bandage. At least three of the gashes were deep enough to kill him. The blood-replenish potions had eased his condition but only shortly. After the third they wouldn't help anymore and he would simply be running dry. In addition the wounds went deep enough to damage several organs as well. Cursed as they were, Luna had no way of healing them.

She had tried, really tried; she even invoked that energy she felt running in her veins since the ritual. It felt weird and foreign but very good at the same time. It was like liquid love running through her body, sappy as that sounded. But while she actually saw a positive effect, saw the wounds closing slowly, the treatment obviously caused immense pain to Severus.

"I'm sorry, Sev." Hermione's eyes widened at Luna's use of that nickname. Snape however seemed to like it. His expression was weird and Hermione wasn't certain he actually recognized the Ravenclaw. He smiled weakly and even tried to lift a hand to Luna's cheek. He didn't have enough power to do that, and Hermione sprang into action and supported the arm. Snape draw slow circles on Luna's cheek with his thumb.

"Don't be," he calmed her with a low, hoarse voice. "I expected it to be like this. Cullen warned me. I've spend too much time with Dark Magic. It's a part of me now. That spell – did you know I invented it?" Luna slowly shook her head, her eyes teary and with none of her usual joy. "I was so proud: my own spell. The Dark Lord praised me, told me how talented I was. It was everything I wanted: a place, respect, and friendship – I needed years to realize that nothing of it was for real."

"I can't help you, Sev. The magic of the curse is interwoven with your own magic. It dug its claws into your core. When I try to lift the curse, it's like I'm attacking your innermost part," Luna cried defeated.

"There was never salvation possible for me, not anymore," Snape accepted his fate.

"But why?" Hermione asked. "We were able to help Harry get rid of the scar."

"Yes," Snape smiled, looking like he would faint soon enough; succumb to the curse. "But I absorbed the darkness willingly; I choose it, unlike Harry. And he had something to anchor his soul to, something to live for. He has his destiny in this world, he has work to do. Harry has friends and he has you."

"You have friends too, Sev," Luna scolded him leniently.

"I know," Snape nodded barely noticeable. "And I'm thankful for that." He coughed, spitting spittle and blood. "At least I could do something good in the end. It's not enough to compensate for what I did, but it's a start. Doesn't the attempt count for something?" He asked, looking pleadingly.

"It does," Hermione answered softly. "Sometimes trying is all we can do."

"It counts," Luna agreed, her voice sounding unusual. "And it is enough, Severus Tobias Snape, son of Eileen Prince. You're forgiven."

Hermione was unable to decide where to look: into Snape's eyes, who were breaking now, as his spirit left his body, a content smile around his lips. Or into Luna's face who was far more than a simple teenager right now. Tears were streaming down Luna's face and onto Severus, but there was no fairy tale, no waking up from the slumber of death for the prince. There was only grief. At least until a new voice sounded through the corridor and shook them from their sorrow.

"How heart-rending this is. I feel like… vomiting."

.

_**Voldemort's Lair – Corridors**_

.

Ophelia Nott had waited long enough. When the alarm went off, she waited for the Death Eater guards around her to jump up and follow their leader Arriacus Carrow towards the door connecting their room to the main chamber. With a lazy wave of her wand and a whispered command word, her expression however betraying her tense nerves, she activated the potion in their bellies. Arriacus fought the effect long enough to look reproachful, before he followed his comrades to their resting positions on the ground. To be on the safe side, she used a Somnus spell on every one of them and gathered their wands. She wouldn't risk one of them somehow getting up again and cursing her back, oh no.

Realizing that there was still the possibility of someone taking a look into the room, she warded it, even going so far as to fuse the hinges. There was still the other door towards one of the neighbouring corridors to get away.

Should she run? Should she stay? What would be safer?

Undecided – and perhaps because of a little remaining concern about her brother Theo – Ophelia activated a one-way window, allowing her to look into the chamber. The fight was in full swing. Cullen cutting down one Death Eater after the next was certainly as impressive as Dumbledore and Potter battling the Dark Lord. Ophelia felt like cheering for them. Only if they won did she have a chance of survival.

With no small amount of guilt her eyes rested on the body of her brother Theo. There was no obvious wound, but equally no raising of his chest from breathing. Had she actually killed him? Was it a fratricide? Had it been the right thing to do? She pushed those questions aside. Pondering about them now would only get her killed.

For a while she continued to stare, to watch the scenes taking place in front of her. Only when Snape returned after rescuing Andy Tonks – something that Ophelia was surprisingly happy about – and was cut down by Dolohov's spell, did her mood change. Perhaps it was better to get away. The fight was still undecided and this was far too dangerous to stay around. Better leave and listen about the victory from far away.

Ophelia hesitated_. I should call Flipsy_, she mused. _It would be the safest escape route_. Still, she couldn't decide to do it. Something held her back and Andy Tonks was a big part in that. Ophelia had risked so much to rescue her. She couldn't simply leave her behind now. _I have to take a look_, she decided. _Perhaps I can take her with me_.

Happy with her decision, she turned around and walked towards the second door, the door leading towards the corridors. Stopping there, she took several deep breaths to calm her flattering nerves. Then, with a decisive motion, she opened the door.

_Let's go._

.

_**Voldemort's Lair – Main Chamber**_

.

It was obvious: the end of the battle was drawing near, the grand finale.

Cullen was bleeding from a dozen small and medium-sized wounds. He was fighting an inner circle member Harry recognized from the pictures: Augustus Rookwood, a former Unspeakable and one of the Death Eaters freed one year ago. Assisting him were most of the thugs still able to do more than moan in pain or lie around unconsciously – or dead. Harry felt slightly ill by all the deaths they had caused but suppressed the feeling for now. Cullen was slower than before, but still deadly. More and more unable to avoid the attacks, he had to rely on his stunning resistance to most spells while deflecting the more serious ones with his sword – before he imbedded it into another Death Eater chest or hacked at an arm or leg.

Dumbledore looked incredibly exhausted. He struggled to put continual pressure on Voldemort while defending him and Harry against Yaxley and the trio of Death Eaters next to him. So far he hadn't been seriously injured but the long fight had taken its toll on his core and power reserves. He didn't move around very much anymore because every step was an exercise of controlling his stumbling. For a second Harry smiled. Albus Dumbledore had erred in the past and some of his decisions had been dubious at best. Tonight however he more than made up for this. He truly was a great wizard.

The only highlight of the situation was the simple fact that Voldy didn't look much better. Harry assumed that the loss of the Horcruxes, ending with Nagini's death a few minutes ago, had seriously weakened him. His last really strong spell had completely destroyed the stone slab, vanishing Harry's best cover. Since then he apparently concentrated on only occupying Albus and Harry while strengthening his own shields.

_He's waiting for the others to put Cullen down_, Harry realized. Hopefully this tactic proved to be an error.

Luckily, the fights all around in the facility seemed to continue and occupy the bulk of Voldemort's forces. Another dozen fresh fighters would end this fight within minutes otherwise. It equally protected Hermione and Luna. He had felt their magic as they extracted Snape's body from the main chamber_. _

_I wonder if he's dead_.

Harry shook his head. He had no time for those questions.

_I have to take a bastard down._

.

_**Voldemort's Lair – Edge of the Main Chamber**_

.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and watched the man warily. From the corner of her eye she noticed how Luna very gently put Severus Snape down, not unlike a mother would put her baby to sleep. She brushed away her tears and straightened her shoulders, her eyes flaming now with hate and disgust. There was no doubt about the identity of Fenrir Greyback, Werewolf and murderous thug. He was feared for his vicious fighting style and his lack of compassion towards even the weakest of opponents and victims. He killed – or even worse: turned into Werewolves – men and women alike, adults, old men and children, Aurors or pregnant women. Everybody was the same in his eyes: prey.

"I hadn't expected to meet someone like you – so young and tender," he smirked lecherously.

_I'm a lioness. I'm a lioness_. Hermione whispered to herself as she stood up from her crouching position. She knew they barely had a chance to overcome Fenrir alone – and he wasn't alone. There was a quintet of thugs standing ready to put them down. Only fear of their leader kept them away for now.

"You're a bad dog, Greyback," Luna stated, her voice shockingly calm. Her confidence, despite it not having any detectable reason, was balm for Hermione's nerves. Despite her courage and fiery temper, she didn't want this fight, not now, not with Andy in danger of getting hit and not when Harry was trying to end the war in the next chamber. She couldn't allow him to get distracted, fearing for her. She couldn't allow him to hear…

Somehow her magic reacted and to her own surprise the door slammed shut behind them, prompting the Death Eaters to jump. It even startled Fenrir for a split-second, just long enough for Luna to cast a spell.

"Down!" The dog command – inherently a Compulsion spell – didn't really get through his strong mental defences. But it startled him, the sheer impertinence stunning him. Luna used the moment to banish Andy into the back of the corridor, away from the fight. In her condition and without a wand she was of no use to them. One of the Death Eaters even got hit by her feet and stumbled to the floor. The others drew their own wands and moved to get a free line of sight, while their leader squandered the time to hiss and snarl at the girl.

"Confundus Maximus!" Hermione's widespread confusion spell was worthless against Fenrir, but three of his thugs got dazed for a moment, one of them even tripping over his own feet. Crashing he came down, pushing one of his comrades out of the way and causing him to send his Cutting Curse against the ceiling instead of hitting Luna.

The blond girl looked like a mix of blessed angel and raging fury. Hermione wondered if this had been how Jean d'Arc had appeared to her soldiers. Sidestepping a Reducto to her chest, she pointed her wand towards one of the still battle-ready thugs.

"PACEM!" Hermione had never heard of that spell before but it obviously worked. The man was hit in the head and instantly stopped to fight. He lowered his wand and stepped back, looking around like he had never seen the others before and had no idea what he was doing here. Watching him, Hermione noticed something – someone – moving in the back of the room, moving towards Andy. The person was disillusioned but not very good. The outlines were still visible.

"Andy, watch out!" Her warning cry not only alarmed Andy, but also prompted one of the Death Eaters – the one that had tripped over his own feet – to turn around. Hermione had no time to watch what happened over there, because Fenrir now jumped to attack Luna with claws raised. She had no opportunity to notice how Ophelia Nott dropped her cover and mercilessly blasted the man apart with a triplet of Reductos. Equally she had no time to listen to the sounds from the corridor, the steps nearing in a hurry, caused by a group of men who had unknowingly followed Fenrir's steps for a while. No, she had to save Luna from these claws. She had promised Cullen to protect her and Luna was her friend.

"Caedo Disciplinae!" The simple fact that she hated the spell didn't mean she hadn't learned it. Now it sprang to her mind and she hoped it would – like Luna's silly compulsion – annoy him more than do its job. It was meant for disciplining unruly children – or dogs.

Regretfully it worked only too well. With a scream of pain and rage Fenrir turned around again and jumped her, too fast for Hermione to react. He pushed her against the wall, her head connecting viciously with the stone. For a moment she feared to lose consciousness, only to be grabbed by the Werewolf. A wild but strong motion of his left claw and immense pain filled the girl as her wand arm snapped. Broken and useless, it wasn't able to keep her wand, her only weapon, from dropping to the floor.

Hermione, through tear-blind eyes, saw Luna panicking, trying to help her. However, there were still three other Death Eaters around. At least someone was helping Luna, the identity unknown to Hermione as her consciousness slowly faded away, the edges of her sight already blackening.

Someone snarled and a powerful Cutting Curse sliced through the hip of the Death Eater threatening Luna. It nearly cut him in halves. _Luna is safe_, Hermione sighed happily while sinking to the ground. High above her was the raging face of Fenrir Greyback. His claws were on her shoulders, the tips piercing her skin.

_Fuck, I had so many plans still_, Hermione grumbled. _Language girl_, she heard her mother's voice and nearly giggled. Hermione heard a weird thudding sound.

Seconds ticked away and Fenrir still didn't move. _Why doesn't he kill me?_ Hermione wondered. All around her it got more silent. Someone was yelling her name, the sound dampened. She knew that voice but wherefrom? And why does Greyback look so weird? He had something in his face, some kind of wart only it seemed metallic. Blood was dripping from the wart as well as from his mouth.

Someone pulled Fenrir away. Hermione hissed as his claws were ripped away from her skin.

Someone kneed down beside her, someone with a crossbow in his hands.

_Funny_, she thought, _Dad has such a crossbow too_.

Everything went black.

.

_**Voldemort's Lair – Main Chamber**_

.

The sword arm pumped back and forth. Cullen felt his strength fading, his body succumbing to sheer exertion. However, he wasn't allowed to stop now. Grunting under the impact of two further spells, he grabbed the man he had just run through with his sword and tossed him towards Rookwood before jumping the man to the right and decapitating him. He glanced to the main fight. Both Harry and Dumbledore had each taken down one of their foes. Yaxley was still standing, if barely, and the last man of his group tried to stay away, justified feeling hopelessly outclassed by the other combatants.

Voldemort seemed to realize the changes too. He got more restless, more aggressive. The team that had been hunting Cullen was dangerously decimated now, with only Rookwood left as a serious opponent. The quartet supporting the Dark Lord nearly was no more. It had been an error to send Fenrir away with nearly half of his men, Voldemort knew that now. He side-stepped Harry's next attack and blasted the door to the second guard room away. _He's grasping at straws._ The sight behind the doorframe was surprising but welcome: six, perhaps eight Death Eaters were lying around in there with no obvious wounds. Who could have taken them down?

Dumbledore knocked Yaxley out with his next spell and started to increase his spellfire against Voldemort. Harry instantly knew that this was Albus' last ounce of energy, pouring into this hellish staccato. Spell after spell crashed into Voldemort's shield and still it didn't buckle. The door opened to the main corridor. Whoever entered, he accomplished one thing: to distract Voldemort.

Without reasoning, without a real plan, Harry started to run. His legs pumped, his eyes only on his target. Albus' next Cutting Curse caused a screeching sound as it hit the shield and Voldemort actually staggered. He recovered just in time to notice the new foe advancing and turned around. Spells from three more wands smashed into the shield. Harry noticed Luna's blond hair and some Weasley red. Where was Hermione?

Somewhere behind a man screamed, more gurgled, as three feet of steel were put through his neck. _Rookwood down_, Harry subconsciously realized.

"Avada…"

"Lancea!" The focussed spell was faster than the death curse and smashed into the weakened shield. A part of it actually broke through and punctured his left shoulder, whirling him off-target.

"Kedavra!" The green beamed missed him by more than a foot.

A couple more spells hit the shield, one of them in a quite different colour. Unlike the punch-like spells used by the others, this one was more like a blanket. Pale blue light covered Voldemort's shield and revealed the many smaller and bigger cracks in the field of energy, the same pale blue light that was now covering his own sword.

Getting despaired, feeling fear for the first time, Voldemort hastily threw a Messorius blade spell against Harry, trying to put him down before he reached him with this dangerous weapon. Bending backwards with his youthful flexibility and seeker reflexes, he avoided the spell but barely. Lashing out with the sword, the blade cut through shield and thigh alike.

Voldemort groaned in pain, especially as a part of the blue light left the blade and clung to the open wound. It seemed to actually continue to burn there. Standing up again, Harry followed up with a back-handed swipe, cutting through sleeve and the flesh of Voldemort's wand arm to the bone. The second wound started to burn too with this hellish blue fire and Voldemort staggered back, only to helplessly watch the boy following him step by step.

"Stomach!" Harry instinctively obeyed Cullen's command and the tip of the sword slashed against the stomach, leaving a deep wound that tore the last power from his opponent.

"Neck!" A deep gash was the result of the fourth attack. Voldemort's left hand went to his neck and fruitlessly tried to stop the blood loss.

"Heart!" And this was the last one, the last strike or in this case thrust. The Gladius was meant to be used as a thrusting weapon and thrusting he did. Harry buried the weapon deep in Voldemort's chest, deep in his black heart.

"This can't be." This or something equally stupid the villain always said at the end of a film. Voldemort however had no chance for such nonsense, no voice and no time. He couldn't even glare anymore but simply died.

The power he knows not. A divine blessed weapon.

Worn and used by the boy-who-lived, the boy from the prophecy.

Had it been necessary? None of the persons present really knew.

But in any case, it had been enough to do the job.

.

_**A/N**_

_The story is mostly done now. Tomorrow I'll leave for a one-week vacation. After that I want to write a (short) epilogue before I return to my main story "Horcrux three". _

_I'm not certain about the epilogue's content. It partially depends on the question whether I'll actually write a sequel (content "Luna in Thedras"). If you have any ideas for the epilogue (pairings, fate of one combatant or the other, Cullen's successor at Hogwarts), please write a PM._


	15. Chapter 15 Epilogue

_**A/N**_

_Here, as promised, a short epilogue. If there will be a sequel, I'll only start it after the Horcrux story is done, so presumably around next New Year._

_Whole story beta-read now, thanks to Butterfly83._

**.**

**Epilogue**

.

_**Forbidden Forest – 20 months later**_

.

"You should have been there, old friend."

Albus' face showed the same mix of sadness and happy contemplation he felt every time he visited the grave of Severus Snape. With slow, careful motions he drew a brush from one of his many pockets and started to clean the grave stone by hand. He took his time doing it. It was some kind of ritual he used to calm down from the daily rush, to rid his mind of any problems that were troubling him. For a moment his eyes rested on the hand that was guiding the brush. It was slightly darker than the other one, the skin a tad more leather-like and his feeling was similar to wearing a glove the whole time. Still it was fully useable and the simple fact that he hadn't lost it was something to be celebrated.

Cullen had kept his word and used the Christmas break after the battle to take care of Albus' hand. In a ritual similar to the one he had used on Harry, he and his circle of "Templar Squibs" had cleansed the dark curse from his hand. Argus Filch had been there, proof of the wisdom of Albus' decision decades ago to entrust the grumpy man with the job of being Hogwarts' caretaker. Petunia Evans and Ben Granger had been there as well and Marius Black, naturally.

It still stunned Albus every time he thought about Black. Since Sirius had reinstated him into the folds of the Black family and since his part in the final battle had become known, he belonged to a growing number of squibs accepted in magical circles. A part of this was certainly caused by his new job at St. Mungo's. Right after the battle, Senior Healer Prewitt had ignored any objections of the board of directors and hired the man as the first squib curse breaker. It had been an incredible far-sighted decision, one that saved at least a dozen lives since then. Especially in the first months there had been many incidents requiring his very unique kind of help and the DMLE had more than once borrowed his services as backup when investigating the house of a Death Eater. At least two Aurors owed him their lives, or so Kingsley told him.

Content with a job well done, Albus stored the brush away and stared at the gravestone. They had followed Minerva's advice and erected the grave on the grounds of Hogwarts but within the edge of the Forbidden Forest, still reachable for someone like Albus but not where annoying tourists would seek out. Severus had rightfully been put on the list of war heroes, and even got an Order of Merlin, one of only a handful getting the First Class. His name was inscribed on the memorial plaque at the Ministry as well. Still, he would hate too much attention, too much praise from the same people that had cursed his name for years. Here he would be safe and peaceful in his rest.

Albus liked the engraved stone. He believed that Severus would have liked it too even if there certainly would have been a lot of hissing and complaining on the outside. Severus always had a reputation to uphold. No less than Luna Lovegood had been the one to design the stone.

_Severus Snape_

_9__th__ of January 1960 – 31__st__ of October 1996_

_Peerless Potions Master_

_Loyal friend to his last breath_

_You repented and you are forgiven._

Two female shapes adorned the grave stone, one wearing a lily in her hand, the other a flower unknown to Albus. While he had no trouble recognizing Lily Evans/Potter, Luna had to explain to him that the other shape was Mother Rosalia and the flower an "Andraste's tear". Lily had been his first friend, the one guiding him through all his life. Rosalia had been the one to absolve him at death's door, using Luna Lovegood's mouth to speak the words Severus needed to hear. She would take care of him in the afterlife. Luna had been certain about that part and after everything Albus had seen in his time around Cullen, he had no doubt about that claim anymore.

"They left, Severus," Albus sighed with a very weak smile on his lips. "It's unbelievable, isn't it? Seven years ago a little boy with black hair and a Muggleborn witch with an unruly mane entered our lives and school. And today they left, got their NEWTs and won't return next September. She was our valedictorian – Miss Granger I mean. You expected that to happen for a long time, did you not? You already mentioned it after a few months, and after she solved your riddle in her first year, you were certain. She was head girl, too, no surprise there. I wanted to make Harry head boy, but he refused, willing to have a year without duties asides from the NEWTs and his girlfriend. So we made Draco head boy, partially due to how he changed since the battle, and partially to further house unity."

Albus smiled, thinking about Hermione Granger. "She was thinking about declining, too, but Harry convinced her otherwise. It had been her dream since she entered Hogwarts and he wanted her to take that chance. But you would have been proud about how she changed since fifth year. She has really grown up and relaxed at the same time. I think Harry had been good for her, even if I expect you to deny it," Albus said with a grin, half expecting to hear Severus roll in his grave.

"These are from her," Albus more stated than asked, his hand caressing the bunch of flowers adorning the grave – lilies. "It's quite a nice piece of magic to get them to last for a full year in full bloom." Albus knew that Hermione had created them in respect of Severus' actions and in thanks to him sacrificing his own life to save Harry's. He had no doubt he would see her here again in the first week of November. Harry would accompany her, again. Who would have expected to see a Potter grief at Severus' grave? Certainly not James Potter. Lily however, Albus was certain, would have been happy. She may have broken her ties to her former childhood friend after the "Mudblood" incident, but from their long talks when the Potters had been in hiding, Albus knew that Lily had never forgotten the unsocial boy who had been the one to introduce her to a completely new world, her first friend.

.

"Far too many died, old friend."

Albus' hand caressed the stone for a moment. "I know: you always had a harsher view on the matter, but their deaths, even those of Tom's followers, even those of the cruellest ones, they burden my conscience. The most prominent death perhaps was the one of Fenrir Greyback. It caused quite an uproar and – as I have to admit – quite a number of whoopees, too. Not only did one of the most infamous, vicious and bloodthirsty Death Eaters die with him, a Werewolf willing to bite even children as he had done for decades, but it was a squib who killed him – with a Muggle weapon. It wasn't a killing curse that brought him down, Severus; not a Reducto or Blasting curse, but a medieval crossbow with a silver-tipped bolt."

Albus sighed again, his face a mask of sadness. "The Carrows died too, Travers and Goyle as a part of the distraction attack; Rookwood was killed through Cullen's sword; Dolohov was defeated by Harry seconds after he hit you with his curse. I know he had nightmares for weeks, but the Grangers helped him to handle the experience – and Miss Lovegood as well. She's surprisingly good at this kind of things."

Albus looked thoughtful for a moment. "A little weird was the death of Theodore Nott. Apparently he had a weak heart and the stress was too much. He was found dead after the battle, without any signs of spells hitting him. His poor sister Ophelia is on her own now but she's handling it well. She's working with Narcissa Black on reshaping the pureblood society, with the help of Andy Tonks by the way. It's slow work apparently, but they're making progress. Integrating foreign families and Muggleborns but keeping parts of the traditions at the same time. I hope I'll live long enough to see them succeed."

One of the things the three women were working on, one of the things Albus wasn't too certain how to felt about, were their political plans. Andy Tonks had suggested creating something akin to the British Muggle system and it seemed the idea won more and more supporters, surprisingly among the oldest pureblood families. She wanted to create a House of Lords with seats for the oldest families and those which had done great service to the magical society. The idea pleased them and gave the pureblood families a continued influence and an accepted kind of nobility. In addition there would be a Parliament, the details still unclear, but with some kind of election system. Muggleborn and Half-Bloods would be part of the Parliament as would younger and/or poorer pureblood families which so far had no voice in the Wizengamot. It wasn't something that could be established overnight and had to be planned and done very carefully, but he had no doubt the three ladies would be successful.

"Two more of his followers died since the battle," Albus continued softly. "While Gibbon got only a lenient sentence and Marcus Flint even got a suspended sentence, Rowle was punished harshly. In the end the sentence was unimportant, because he died three weeks later under suspicious circumstances. The DMLE wasn't able to solve the matter. Apparently one of the families who suffered from his crimes was able to muster help from the Azkaban wardens and executed revenge."

Albus hadn't been happy about the deed. Revenge wasn't something he could agree with. However, he understood the feeling. He had felt the same after those Muggles raped his little sister a century ago. Perhaps something like this had happened again. After all Andy Tonks had nearly been one of his victims and he trusted both Andy and Narcissa from the House of Black to exact revenge like this.

"Bellatrix LeStrange is dead too. She got the Kiss and died a few months later. She was the last wizard or witch to get that punishment, as Amelia and Cullen convinced the Wizengamot to stop using Dementors as guards and executors. The matter of what to do with them is still unresolved. I fear it will be a problem for years to come. For now they're imprisoned in one of the North Sea islands because of their part in Tom's crimes. It's not a permanent solution, naturally." In a way Albus was happy that he didn't have to decide about their fate anymore. He had no idea how to solve the problem. Only about one thing he was quite certain: they wouldn't return to Azkaban.

Albus' face softened into a smile. "A sweet detail: Marcus Flint isn't leaving Ophelia Nott's side. According to rumours he is working as her very private secretary and even learned to dance and play the piano to impress her. Apparently they want to spend the next months making a voyage around the world. I don't think they'll actually marry but I wish them only the best for how long it will last." Albus was an unadulterated romantic and certainly hoped for the best, saw love everywhere. On the other hand he was realistic enough and had known both Theo and Ophelia Nott for years to expect a change of heart after a few years at most. _Hopefully she'll let him down very gently_.

.

"I'll visit you from time to time, old friend, but I'm certain Minerva will take good care of you as well. She'll take over as Headmistress of Hogwarts with the start of the next school year, with Pomona Sprout as her Deputy. Filius declined the honour because he is, like me, feeling his age. They have great plans and used the last year to collect ideas from students and parents alike. They want to change quite a few things, mostly about house unity and tolerance. Narcissa will organize classes about the magical society, laws and regulations, customs and traditions. Professor Binns has to go at last and Hagrid will get an assistant, partially to control his urge to teach about unsafe creatures like those blast-ended Skrewts. His time with Professor Kettleburn helped to get rid of this awful habit but from time to time he has still a relapse."

Albus realized that many of those changes were only possible because the Black sisters, Amelia and Augusta supported Minerva, with the board of governors assisting and but not obstructing. Only two years ago it wouldn't have been feasible.

"From next September onward, I'll be free from duties again. I already resigned from my other offices last summer. Now I can spend my time reading and researching again." Albus sighed. "I'll really miss Nicolas, my old friend and research partner. There are others interested in exchanging ideas, some of them certainly experts in their own way, but it won't be the same. With so many friends gone, perhaps it is time to quit the scene. What do you think?"

Albus listened for a long time for his old friend to answer. We will never know if he got one.

.

_**Hogsmeade Station – same time**_

.

"So, you'll really do it?" Ron asked, sitting on a bench aside Harry, the boys waiting for Ginny and Hermione to arrive for the departure. The girls were doing their rounds to say goodbye to some friends.

"Yeah, we'll leave next week," Harry nodded, his eyes closed, enjoying the warm sun on his face. "The Grangers always wanted to see China and Japan. We'll visit a few cities and places."

"With places you mean museums, right?" Ron grinned. "Better you than me, mate."

Harry shrugged. "I like museums, at least with Ben around. Hermione and her mother are in their own little world at such times." Actually Harry liked museums too because he loved the fire in the eyes of the Granger girls. But he wouldn't tell Ron this, he wouldn't understand. Sometimes he wondered how a relationship between Hermione and Ron would have worked. Harry shuddered.

"Hermione is eighteen already and I will be in a month," Harry continued. "So we'll be adults in the Muggle world as well. After that, we want to make a trip around the world, have a look at universities, Muggle and magical alike, before we decide what to do."

"No Auror career for you?" Ron asked.

"No, sorry, mate." Harry shook his head. He knew that Ron had liked the idea of going through Auror training together and to continue working as a fabulous duo. But after the battle, Harry had lost any desire to willingly put himself in a position where he would be forced to fight again. Defending those he cared for was one thing, searching for danger something completely different. "And no job at the Ministry for Hermione either," he continued. Like everybody had expected him to join the DMLE, most who knew Hermione had expected Hermione to do something about creature rights. Perhaps she would do that later, but not now. However, she wasn't certain what to do next.

_Research perhaps_, Harry mused. There had even been an offer to her by Albus Dumbledore to be his assistant and apprentice for a few years, completing a Master degree in Transfiguration or Potions. She would be his first apprentice since Minerva McGonagall, perhaps his last altogether. It was an idea worth thinking about. Since the battle the relationship between Albus and Harry had improved again. They weren't as close as before the Ministry battle, but they trusted each other again – simply because the whole Voldemort matter was now resolved.

However, there had been other offers as well, most of them from friends and pal pans of Minerva, Filius and Professor Vector all over the world. One offer sounded especially interesting. It came from a youth friend of Professor Flitwick who was teaching now somewhere in Northern India. He integrated Charms and Arithmancy into something astounding. Those subjects were Hermione's true strong points and Harry was certain she could do something to really improve the magical lore. On the other hand, even Hermione admitted that she lacked the instinct of a great potioneer or the sheer power a transfiguration mistress needed. So, while Albus Dumbledore's offer was a great honour, he didn't expect her to accept it.

This only left one question, a question he had to solve while doing the world trip: what did he want to do himself?

.

_**Granger home – same time**_

.

Petunia Evans was staring out of the window. She had been invited to the home of the Granger family to say her farewell before Harry left. There was no way to tell how long he would be gone – weeks, months, more than a year? They had been fairly successful in repairing their relationship and while not too cordial, they were at least polite and cared for each other.

Liam Evans, formerly Dudley Dursley, was far closer to Harry and Hermione. His changes had been incredible and every time Petunia looked at him she knew how right it had been to choose a future separate from her late husband. Thanks to Harry he had undergone a strict physical regimen, lost more than three stones of fat and developed quite a knack for boxing and sword fighting. Too bad he had no interest in the more widespread fencing schools. He found epee, rapier and foils to be too girly. Simultaneously to the physical changes, there had been a mental and emotional one as well. He still wasn't a great student, but far more diligent now and it showed. His degrees were average with above average results in his courses about literature, politics and philosophy. He now defended other students with the same fury he had bullied them at former times. Next year he would take his A level exams and after that… he had still to decide about his future plans.

"How was your first year as Hogwarts new matron?" Ben Granger asked.

While Beatrice still hadn't completely forgiven Petunia's past and how she had treated Harry, Ben was far closer to her after the months spent together in Cullen's training. He liked her no-nonsense attitude and had watched how the formerly sour-faced woman allowed her dry humour and caring nature to make an appearance.

"Alright," Petunia sighed "Hard, sometimes very hard, but alright overall. Argus had been a big help and Pomona as well. We needed a few months to organize our 'fields of work' but now we're good about that."

A few months after the battle, there had been much talk about possible successors of Steward Cullen. One of the most important points had been his decision that the Steward per se was only needed at times of war. Part of his job had to continue afterwards as the events of the years before the battle had been proof of. However, they didn't need to be concentrated in one person. In the end it had been decided – by Cullen's circle together with Matron Mathilda's input but without regarding Albus Dumbledore's counsel – that two people would continue Cullen's work.

Argus Filch would teach sword-fighting to talented students. Each of them would have to get his approval about his mental and emotional maturity. No kidding around, no using weapons outside of the training and certainly no attacking other students with their newfound knowledge. He would be assisted by the newly established matron of students. Her duty was to lent a sympathetic and unbiased ear to every student, help new students to acclimate and serve as a liaison between school, students and parents. Chosen as the first matron had been Petunia Evans. Her youthful dream had come true at last: she would live at Hogwarts, the place that he been Lily's home for the best part of her life.

There had been some rumbling, political and public, in the beginning. Two squibs with such important positions? Pureblood families forced to cooperate? Preposterous. Two women had stopped this in the end. The first woman – in a broader sense – had been Matron Mathilda. She announced that Lady Hogwarts would close the school's doors if someone tried to interfere with the decision. The second woman to support Argus and Petunia had surprisingly been Narcissa Black.

"We fought Voldemort to stop this purist nonsense," she one day yelled at a ruckus in the Wizengamot. "Miss Evans and Mister Filch helped our children, assisted Harry in the battle and risked their life – more than many of you can claim. They would do that again should the need arise in the future; I have no doubt of that. My son is still at Hogwarts. One day hopefully my grand-children will be there as will. I would feel better knowing them there."

And so it had happened.

Argus was still grumpy but not cruel anymore. Instead of polishing trophies, detentions consisted of laps around the Quidditch field and "down, twenty press-ups" was a feared order by now. To be respected by students and teachers alike – at least by most of them as there were always hardheads who needed to learn the wisdom of politeness – did wonders to his overall attitude. Last winter a few of the Muggleborn students had started to learn carpenter from him and more than one student with a cat familiar had consulted him about how to treat their sick cat.

Petunia had it easier and more difficult at the same time. The younger students adored her and the older girls – while fearing her sharp tongue – trusted her with every problem about their emergent sexuality and the accompanying problems. However, she had more problems with older, mostly male and mostly Slytherin, pureblood students and her lack of magic. It was changing, but slowly. She still hoped it wouldn't be a problem anymore as the students who started last fall would be got older.

It was a time of changes and Ben Granger was eager to see them happen. He himself was happy to return to his former life, more or less. Certainly his daughter and Harry could use his help and council from time to time, but his era as a squib-Templar was over. He had learned it to be able to defend his family – a family that encompassed Harry too. He would continue his training to be ready should the need ever arise again, but he would be happy if he was never forced to draw a weapon again, nor to kill a human being. Not that he regretted to have killed that beast which threatened his daughter one yota. Luckily he had no time to think about a miss as he pulled the trigger of his crossbow. With more time and thought he wouldn't have dared try the shot. The wolf was dead. His daughter was alive.

It was time to think about grandchildren.

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_**Cullen and Luna**_

.

You want to know what happened to Luna and Cullen?

That's a secret only known to their closest friends and they won't share.

Ginny liked to tell a version how Luna seduced Cullen at last the night of her sixteenth birthday. It was at the edge of the black lake and under a full moon. In her story Luna immediately got pregnant – alright, perhaps not immediately but certainly after their third or fourth go at it – and she married Cullen right after her OWL, with her father Xeno standing behind Cullen with a loaded crossbow he borrowed from a happy grinning Filch. Not because he actually needed it, but because he read somewhere about that part being tradition.

Harry preferred the story where Cullen stayed with Luna as she went on a world-wide hunt for all kind of mythical creatures. He especially loved the part where she found the crumple-horned Snorkack at last and Hermione had to eat humble pie because of her former unbelief. Yes, he loved to tell that part, despite being forced to sleep on the couch for a night every time afterwards.

Hermione however had a third alternative she loved to speak about. In her story, Luna accompanied Cullen back to his home country. They reformed the society there and promoted the peaceful cohabitation of magic-users, Templars and all citizens. It was a slow process in Hermione's story, a painful process full of obstacles and hardships, great adventures and big speeches, but Luna and Cullen never lost each other, stood through this ordeal together, and were successful in the end.

You want to know which version of their story is true?

That's for you to decide and if you believe it strongly enough, your story will become true, because belief is truth, especially regarding people like Luna Lovegood from Ottery St. Catchpole and Cullen Stanton Rutherford from Honnleath.

.

"His work is done."

Mother and Lady were watching their favourite couple with intertwined hands.

"At least around here."

She nodded and put her head on her shoulder with a sigh of sadness.

"It was the easier part."

She nodded again. This time she was unable to keep the tears back as she thought about their future.

"Do you still wish to continue?"

She raised her head again and brushed away her tears. With a shaky smile the Mother nodded.

"We could leave them. They would be happier like this."

She sighed again. "I know. But they wouldn't forgive us. They could change everything. Their own happiness is nothing to them if it's at the expense of others. Their pain would enlighten thousands of others."

The Lady growled. "Why do they have to be so painfully heroic and willing to make sacrifices?"

The Mother laughed but it was a shattered laugh full of grief and troubled compassion. "Because that's why we love them so much."

The Lady hugged her, her eyes not wavering from the couple. "Let us watch them for a while before we send them on their way."

The Mother nodded, a small smile on her face. This time it was an honest smile.

"Yes, let us watch them."

.

_**A/N**_

_Don't forget to click on the "Follow this story" button in case you're interested in the sequel._


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